Back to the Start
by thatswhatihad
Summary: After landing herself in the hospital after an unknown accident, Paige McCullers is left searching for an explanation for what brought her to this point. In order to put the pieces back together, she decides to begin where all the greatest stories are formed: the start. This is a Paily fanfic told from Paige's perspective. Rate T now, may be changed to M.
1. Chapter 1

I couldn't sleep.

The incessant pounding in my head couldn't seem to find it within itself to show mercy on me. The nurses said it's to be expected when you receive a harsh blow to the head, but I have a different theory for the causes of this unrelenting pain. I have been coming in and out of consciousness every since I got here, so everyone has deemed me disoriented and unable to make sense of time or reality in any capacity, but there are some things which never seemed to leave me. So, with all that is out of my control or my remembrance, I've found myself to be holding particularly close those elements which make me feel rooted somewhere instead of floating around in a violently sickened dream, despite the fact that these realities which I have not forgotten are the ones that keep my head turning.

They keep asking me if I remember anything about my life prior to the incident, almost harassing, as if each new day should bring forth new information. If that is the case, I have failed. Instead, I keep telling them (or writing, rather, as I can't seem to bring myself to form one coherent sentence) the same five things:

1\. My name is Paige McCullers.

2\. I am 24 years old.

3\. I have a dog, Rudy.

4\. I swam for my college, Stanford, for four years.

5\. There is someone at home waiting for me, and I need to get back to her.

It's the last one that always clings to my thoughts for some reason, and it's that very one that I blame for this incredulous stabbing that keeps me awake at all hours. There was a time when, if I stirred restlessly in the night, I would turn over to find you there. Instead, a pocket of harsh, cold air has taken your place, and my only constant is this dull pain.

I should be resting, they told me; it's crucial to the recovery process. But here I am, wide awake and staring at the door, as doing so enough would mean you would come walking through it. But it's been four days now, and you haven't come yet, which makes me wonder if you're even waiting for me at all.

* * *

I haven't had a single visitor since I arrived here. I'm trying my best to get on with the nurses and doctors that often pass through, but it's a chore. After all, the extent of our interactions is limited to food trays, needles, and gauze. And even though I make an effort to start conversation as they are changing the bandages on my leg, or checking for progress on my memories, or moving my body's position so I don't get bed sores, I still have developed a harsh distrust for all who have dealt with me. I suppose that's because they all refuse to tell me what's happened or why no one's brought me my things. Everything is confidential in this place, and I'm starting to grow bitter.

I'm approaching the 24th hour, or at least that's what they're telling me. I suppose I should try to get some rest. Maybe you'll be by my side when I wake up. Here's to hoping.

* * *

I must've passed out somewhere between 3 and 4 this morning as I was awakened by the obnoxious prodding of one of my nurses. She kept nagging me that I wasn't getting in enough fluids, but you know how I am when I'm restless. I'm not in the mood to eat or drink or force elated energy. I just want to be by myself to work things out in mind to bring some sense of control in my life, even though these thoughtful deliberations more often leave me more distressed than I was before being left alone to my own devices. I don't care, though. I don't care that I'm depressed. In fact, I wish they would leave me alone so I could have a moment to sulk in my own misery so I can at least get it out of my system. All of this fake cheeriness is only irritating my emotions more and letting them build up. But they don't offer plates for smashing in this place. Instead, they just add more bags to my I.V. so I am numb to everything except my thoughts. I'm going crazy in here. I just wish they'd let me go.

* * *

I didn't know how long it had been since I checked in to this place. I didn't even know how long it had been since I last ate. Each day blurred into the next in this mind numbing cycle of questions and sleep. So when a nurse stood in the doorframe to tell me something other than nagging or forewarning interrogation, I was left questioning if I had heard it all right. "Ms. McCullers, you have a visitor."

"Who is it?" I asked expectantly. Maybe she was coming for me after all and just got caught up things. But when the name left the nurse's lips, so too had any hope I had stored within me.

"Rachel Davenport. She said she was a friend of yours?"

I sighed, nodding my head as I wiped away the sleep from my eyes. "Yeah, okay. Would you let her in?"

The nurse stepped to the side to reveal the first familiar face I had seen in all my stay here. She walked in cautiously, taking off a scarf and pulling a bag off her shoulder as she approached my bed.

"Hey, Paige. It's Rachel, from Stanford. Remember me?" There was a hesitancy in her voice that unnerved me. It made me feel fragile, and I began to wonder what exactly had happened that night that would make a girl who I was so used to pushing me around and teasing me to suddenly treat me as if one sudden movement could send me shattering into a million tiny fragments.

"Yeah, I remember you. How could I forget the person who almost got us kicked out of the bar because her singing was so god awful?"

I laughed, and I suppose that was all Rachel needed to know that it was okay if she laughed too. And, for a moment, it was as if everything were as it was. But then she gave me that sympathetic look again, and I realized that perhaps it would be one I would have to start getting used to.

"How've you been holding up?" she asked, reaching out to cover my hand with her grasp.

"Alright, I guess. I uh, I don't really know much of what happened. They keep pumping me full of god knows what to keep me sedated. I guess they've realized what a pain in the ass I get to be when I'm all cooped up," I joked, offering a smile. Rachel smiled back, and I could tell she was trying her best to talk to me as if we weren't in a hospital right now, but Rachel had a nasty habit of revealing all her thoughts in the way her eyes looked on you.

"But for those small moments that they've left my I.V. running low, I start to feel it all again. The constant stabbing in my brain, the way it hurts to breathe, the radiating pain that shoots up and down my arms and through my hip. I'd think it were all a dream if I didn't keep waking up to the same thing. But sometimes I still try to convince myself it's all in my head because they haven't explained a thing to me."

Rachel sighed, brushing a thumb back and forth across the exposed part of my hand. "I'm sorry, Paige. We don't have to talk about all that right now if you don't want to. I didn't mean to bring that all up."

"It's fine, Rachel, honestly. I just haven't talked to anyone besides doctors and nurses for what seems like forever. It's nice just having you around. Really."

"I'm sorry I couldn't come visit you sooner. The doctors wanted to make sure you were stable before letting visitors in. Today was the first day they said yes."

"So what have they told you? Please, tell me. I'm so confused, I don't know what's going on I-"

"They haven't told me anything, Paige. I know we are real close and everything, but we aren't family, remember? I'm not allowed to know anything unless you disclose that with me."

I huffed. "Right. Stupid doctor-patient confidentiality, huh?"

"Yeah," Rachel sighed, avoiding eye contact. "But hey, I brought some things that might help keep your mind off the rest. Want me to show you?"

"I'd l _ove_ a good distraction right now," I said, trying to push myself up before groaning at the sharp pain that coursed through my chest as I did so.

"Hey, easy there. Let me help you." Rachel got up, helping to lean my body forward as she adjusted some pillows so I could sit more upright. "There, how's that?"

"Much better," I breathed. "Anyway, let me see what you got."

Finally, Rachel seemed to be returning to her usual, energetic self as she reached down into the backpack she had brought with her and began placing things on the bed.

"First, I thought you would like some things to make it a little more homie in here, so I took some things from your apartment," Rachel said, revealing an assortment of picture frames alongside a blanket that she placed next to me. "Want me to put these on your table?"

I picked up the first frame that caught my eye- a picture of me and Emily from a bonfire we had to celebrate us graduating. We were both laughing at a thought that I have long since forgotten, but just looking at the way Emily's smiled glowed, bringing competition to the embers of that fire, brought a familiar feeling to my chest that was warm and comforting. "Yeah, I'd like that. Thanks, Rach."

She set the frame right next to my bedside, making sure it was angled in my direction so I need not so much as glance down to get a good look. "I also brought you a blanket. And don't even try to pretend like it's not your favourite. You brought that thing to every overnight trip we had in college," Rachel teased, laughing on her own for once.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I remember," I bantered, taking the fabric up in my shaky hands and bringing it to my face, trying to smell something other than a hospital for once. "Thanks, Rach. You don't know how much I appreciate all of this."

"Wait, I wasn't done," Rachel stopped me, digging into her backpack once again. "I brought your camera. I don't know if you remember, but I started giving you lessons before- Well you got this camera for your birthday and you started getting really into it. I thought it might be a fun thing to do when you get bored in here." She handed me the camera, and I turned it on, scrolling through the pictures I had taken before. When I didn't say anything, Rachel spoke again. "I would have brought you an Olympic-sized pool if I could, but seeing as that is not possible, I thought-"

"It's perfect Rachel, really. I love it. Thank you."

I set the camera down beside me and outstretched my arms, prompting Rachel to stand up and lean in so I could hug her. "I was really worried about you, McCullers," she whispered in my ear, clearly choking back emotion. "Don't you ever do that to me again."

"I wont," I whispered back. "I promise."

But honestly, I didn't exactly know what it was that I had promised not to do. I had only hoped that I could keep that promise, if I could ever find out what happened.

* * *

I apologize for its brevity, but I didn't want the first chapter to be too overwhelming in length. Please leave feedback as you wish; I really appreciate it!


	2. Chapter 2

So sorry for the delay in posting. Life got a little hectic, and I couldn't find the time to write you all something. I'm happy to hear you guys are enjoying the story so far. Please bare with me on this one; this is my first serious fanfic and I'm desperately trying to find the time and energy to produce something of quality for you. Some chapters may be a little more rough than others, but I'm hoping it won't show. Thanks again for all the feedback, and enjoy :)

* * *

 _"Well this was it," Emily sighed, placing her skewer in the bucket of water. It was the weekend following graduation, and we decided to spend the weekend camping with a group of our friends a couple miles off shore._

 _"What do you mean?" I asked, handing her a napkin to wipe of the marshmallow and chocolate that had oozed out from her s'mores._

 _"Our bucket list," she explained, wiping off her fingers. "This was the last item on our bucket list."_

 _I had nearly forgotten about that, but as soon as Emily brought it up a series of memories instantly began flooding my mind, and I couldn't help but smile. "That list we made in high school."_

 _"Yeah. We've checked everything off now."_

 _I looked to Emily, unconvinced. "How are you so sure?"_

 _Without a word, Emily pulled out a worn out piece of paper that had been resting folded in her jean pocket for who knows how long. "I saved it, and I've been crossing them off as we go. A bonfire for graduation was the only one we had left. It's done."_

 _I looked down at the paper in her hand and recognized the familiar alternation between my handwriting and hers, with a space between each line. "Well what are you going to do with the list now?"_

 _She paused, thinking the question over for a moment. "I suppose I could toss it into the-"_

 _"No, I'll keep it if you don't want it," I cut her off, hating to see such a meaningful momento become tarnished._

 _Emily shrugged, looking unsure as to why I would want to keep such an old and dirtied paper, but handed it over anyway. "Thanks," I replied, tucking it into my pocket, and I watched as Emily stared off into the distance. "Did you ever think you'd cross it all off?"_

 _"To be honest, no. Most of the stuff I suggested at the time were just dreams. Those "what if's" that I thought would be cool if they could happen. I didn't actually think they would though."_

 _"Neither did I," I agreed, looking at the fire as I breathed in its warmth. "But I'm grateful to have been wrong on this one."_

 _Emily smiled, taking my hand into hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Me too."_

 _For a while, we both just sat on the tree stumps we had been using as seats, enjoying the momentary silence that had arisen since the rest of the group had gone back to their tents for the night. I wasn't sure if it was because it was summer, or the last burning coals, or the fact that I had everyone and everything I could possibly want or need at that present moment, but I had become overcome with a comforting sense of warmth that permeated through every fiber of my being. And, for what felt to be the first time in forever, there was nothing in this world that could interrupt this moment._

 _"Paige?" Emily spoke softly, breaking the silence._

 _"Yeah?" I asked, focusing my attention back on her._

 _Emily's forehead was scrunched as it was whenever she was perplexed or ruminating over something. "What are you thinking about?"_

 _"How easy it would be for me to kidnap you right now and have nobody catch me," I teased, trying to keep a straight face but ultimately failing._

 _Emily rolled her eyes, smiling for a brief moment before a serious expression returned to her face. "No, seriously, what are you thinking?"_

 _I exhaled deeply, reaching out to Emily, covering her hand with mine."I'm thinking about how lucky I am to have the chance to be sitting right here, right now, and how grateful I am for everything that has led me to this moment," I answered truthfully, lending a smile. "What about you?"_

 _Emily looked towards the distance for a moment before returning her focus to me. "I'm thinking..I'm happy. I'm so genuinely happy that it almost doesn't seem real. And I'm worried it's all going to end."_

 _All of a sudden, Emily's expression turned bittersweet, and I found myself searching for a way to change that. "Hey, endings are half the fun. They're the beginning of the next, and the next always has something to look forward to," I began, watching as Emily's face softened. "For example, somewhere in the near future, I predict that we will find ourselves our tent and push our sleeping bags a little closer together, resulting in something so unbelievably hot that even this fire here will be jealous."_

 _Emily laughed, placing her hand on my knee as she looked up at me with a contented smile. "So what do we do now?"_

 _Upon hearing those words, I found myself unable to hold back the excited smirk that pulled at my lips. "I think it's time we make a new list."_

* * *

"Paige? Paige?"

I blinked my eyes several times before focusing on the woman standing before me. "Hey," I muttered, bringing my uninjured arm up to wipe my eyes. "Where are my things?"

The woman looked confused. "What?" she remarked, shaking her head as she continued. "Ms. McCullers, we have some news we need to share with you."

I looked at her with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? You have me trapped in this damn room for days without so much as a word from the outside world until last night, and you can't even take a moment to give me my things? What the actual-"

"Ms. McCullers, this is important. I need you to calm down so I can-"

"Calm down?!" I raised my voice, exasperated. "Do you realize how hard it has been for me to keep my calm and go along with all you tell me to do, or refuse to tell me? It's draining to be so isolated and kept in the dark as if you're some four year-old who can't handle the truth. I'm an adult. I deserve to know what is going-"

"Ms. McCullers, if you would just let me speak, that's what I've been trying to tell you. But I'm going to need you to calm down first or I am going to have to reconsider the whole ordeal."

"Calm down?" I laughed lightly, growing increasingly more frustrated. "Yeah, okay. Give me my things. I need to call Emily. She's probably wondering where I'm at right now and we have a list of things we need to get done that I really need to get back to and I-"

"Ms. McCullers, you can't call Emily right now she-"

i was getting real fed up with this woman constantly cutting me off. "You can't continue to tell me who I can and can't call. I have the right to speak with-"

"Emily's in a coma, Ms. McCullers," the nurse managed. "I'm afraid a phone call will not be possible at the moment."

I just laid there, staring back at the woman with the most intense spite and fury I have ever known myself capable of feeling. "She's what?" my voice cracked. I pursed my lips as I waited for an answer, willing the tears to keep from leaving.

The woman sighed, folding her arms and looking at me apprehensively before speaking again. "Ms. Fields was with you when your car was struck. She was ejected through the windshield and has suffered significant swelling to the brain. We had to put her in a medically induced coma to help bring the swelling down. She's stable, but I'm afraid you won't be making any calls to her any time soon."

This could not be happening right now. There is a fair list of things in this world I have grown to despite and hate, but there are very few things on that list that I absolutely can't stand. This, however, is an entirely different scenario. It's not that I couldn't deal with it, it's that I couldn't even will myself to accept it as truth.

I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from yelling. "When were you planning on telling me this?"

"Today. That's partially what I wanted to talk with you about. The doctors see you've been making progress in therapy and cognition, and they believe you are now ready to hear the truth."

"You mean you're going to tell me what's been going on?"

"Yes. Everything will be returned to you that we recovered from the accident, and your medical reports will be fully disclosed. After that, you just need to be cleared by the physical therapist that you are fit to go home, and we will release your discharge papers. Of course you'll still need to come back for appointments, but you'll be free to leave."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving."

"Ms. McCullers, I don't understand. Every since you regained consciousness, all you've been talking about is your discharge date."

I remained adamant. "I'm not leaving without Emily."

"Ms. McCullers, we can't say when Ms. Fields will be fit to leave, if she-"

"No, Emily is going to be just fine. You don't know her like I do. There are no "if's"."

The nurse sighed, appearing to grow impatient. "Okay, _when_ Ms. Fields is fit to leave. We can't put a date on that at the moment. It could be several months, you-"

"Then I'll be in here every day until she is discharged, understand? I'm not leaving her alone like I was left to be. It's not going to happen," I spoke sternly, looking at the nurse with eyes that made sure she knew there was no hesitancy to be had in my intentions.

The nurse sighed. "Okay, do as you must. I just thought I should let you know that you won't be stuck here much longer."

"Anything else?" I avoided eye-contact, trying to keep my composure until the nurse left me to myself.

She turned around, picking up a manilla folder off the counter. "Here's the police report of the accident, along with all the tests and scans we've taken while you've been here. I thought you would prefer to look at these alone."

 _Well at least she got something right_. "Yeah, thanks."

"Just push the call button if you have any questions. I'll be back in a few hours to change your bandages," she spoke before quietly exiting my room.

* * *

"So I assume you've had some time to look over the paperwork, but I thought I'd briefly explain everything on a more condensed and practical scale."

It had been two hours since the nurse and I had had our brawl. The doctor finally had a moment to spare and took it upon himself it come into my room and go over what they had gathered had happened on the night of the accident.

"We decided to send you through a series of scans and tests to ensure you weren't suffering from any internal bleeding or swelling when you entered our facilities. Luckily, these tests turned up negative on both counts, which will expedite your healing process. As for the incisions and cast, you shattered your left radius and ulna, so we had to put pins in to hold it in place. The cast is just for added support and protection, in case you do get bumped around a bit. You should avoid this at all costs, however, as even the slightest hit could cause a shift, and you don't want to have to come back in again for surgery to have it reopened."

I nodded my head, noting that I was listening.

"We also made an incision in your left thigh to repair the damages to your femur using a plate. When you leave the hospital, you'll still need to use your crutches and come to physical therapy to ensure you regain full motion as well as your strength."

"And how often will I have to come in?"

"Depends on what the therapist requests. My guess, once or twice a week until you are stabilized and able to properly do the exercises on your own."

I breathed, shallowly. "Okay, and what about this chest pain? Will that go away soon?"

"It's something you're just going to have to ride out until your ribs heal. The pain will be manageable soon enough, and you'll be on prescription medicine for your leg anyway. If it causes you too much trouble, you can always come back in, but I'm not predicting it to be much of a problem for you," he replied. "Are there any other questions I can have answered for you at the moment."

I paused, realizing the unlikeliness of a proper response but disregarding the fact. "What happened to Emily?"

"I'm afraid I can't say more than that she is being treated with a medically induced coma. Only time will tell us what the future will be for Emily. For now, we can only monitor and wait."

"Is there any chance of me seeing her?" I knew it was a stretch, but honestly, I was desperate for anything in the concerns of Emily.

The doctor sighed, giving me a sad smile. "It is best that she doesn't have any visitors at the moment. However, you will be the first to know when that opportunity becomes available."

I forced a smile, nodding, knowing that he was trying his best. I appreciated that at least he had the decency to be honest with me right now. "Okay, yeah. Thanks, doc."

"I'm sorry I can't do more at the moment, Ms. McCullers, but I can assure you she is receiving the finest care." He turned around, grabbing a bag off the stool before facing me again. "Here are your things we recovered from the accident. Most of it is useless at this point, but we are legally obliged to return them to you. Your phone, however, seemed to survive."

I took the bag from his hand and peered inside, rummaging through torn, blood-stained clothes until I found my cell phone. "I'll leave you alone now. I assume you have some people you would like to call."

"Yeah, thanks," I replied, glancing up from my phone to look at him.

"Hit the call button if you need me. A nurse will be in in a few hours to check in on you."

The doctor then closed the door softly behind him, leaving me with a cell phone and an ample selection of bitter thoughts.

* * *

"Hey, you finally got your phone back, huh?" It was Rachel, and her usually invigorating cheering voice had me fuming.

"When were you planning on telling me?" I cut her off, snapping into the phone's speaker.

There was a pause before Rachel spoke again, sounding rather unsure of herself. "Telling you what?"

"That Emily was in the hospital too," I spoke sharply, unable to help myself.

"Paige, I-"

"That whole patient-doctor confidentiality line was real smooth. You know, I actually believed you. You want to know why? Because I didn't think my _best friend_ would _lie_ to me. I thought she'd have my back. I guess I was wrong."

"Paige the doctors were hesitant to even let me see you. I made a deal with them that if they let me in to see you, I wouldn't mention any of the details of what happened."

"Oh, so you know more?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know every little detail? Like, for instance, that my girlfriend is in a coma right now and could be dead soon?"

"Paige, don't say that.."

"Why not? It's the truth! I understand that that's something you and the doctors have deemed inappropriate in the given circumstance, but you and I both know that's a load of crap. You know what I've gone through. You know I could've handled it."

"Yeah, Paige, I do know you can handle it," Rachel rebuttaled. "I wasn't the one saying you couldn't. The doctors were. And I'm _sorry_ that I thought that you would much prefer having a friend to be with you through this than know the truth right away. My bad for trying to be a good friend"

I sighed, running my uninjured hand through my hair. "Rach," I sighed, feeling remorseful. "Rachel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I-" I stopped, not knowing what to say. "I just..."

"You're going through a lot, I know," she whispered sympathetically. "What do you need me to do for you?"

I took in a deep breath, thinking for a moment before finally deciding on the one thing I knew could make this suffocating stay a little more bearable- something that would help me be productive. "Remember that list I have pinned to my cork board?" I asked, biting my lip and praying she'd say yes.

"Yeah," she replied. "What about it?"

"Could you bring that in when you visit me? It's important."

"Yeah, of course." I smiled. "And Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"I really do have your back, alright? You're not going to have to go through this alone."

"Thanks, Rach."

"Love you, McCullers. Now get some rest. I don't want you falling asleep on me when I come to see you."

With that, I heard Rachel hang up, and I sighed, placing my phone down next to the picture frame that was staring back at me. _We're going to make it out of here_ , I thought, _I promise._

* * *

Well that's it for this chapter; I hope you're enjoying it! I read all the feedback you guys give me, so please feel free to leave me a comment.

And one last question: would you guys like me to respond to the comments you make in the intro before each chapter? Let me know, and I'll be sure to do it.

Have a great week :)


	3. Chapter 3

I've been trying to find the time since my last update to write more for you guys, but between school, work, and doctors visits, I had little time and energy on my hands. I still have a lot coming up this next month, but I'm hoping the fact that I received a diagnosis will help clear some head space so that I can sit down and write some more. Thank you for your patience and understanding, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

* * *

It was Rachel who drove me home the day that they released my discharge papers, and she has been nothing if not overbearing every since. It seems I have become her new project, or patient rather. Turns out, she's a physical therapist, and so I only have to come in to the hospital's facilities once every two weeks just so they have a record of my progress, which I'm rather excited about because that means two less visits to the hospital every week during which I'm the patient. You learn something new every day!

Or I do at least, ever since my memories slowly started coming back. I learned that Rachel was a certified physical therapist for one. But I also learned other things, like how my apartment is on the fourth floor and how difficult it is to cover four sets of stairs when you're on crutches. I learned that I'm still allergic to chocolate and codeine (I'm still covered in hives and I am _not_ handling it well). I learned that Rachel really had gotten me hooked to photography in recent months, and my favourite subject was a certain individual (though that really comes as no surprise). I learned that there's a drawer in my room that's filled with things that aren't mine. I learned that I never stopped loving getting up before the sun for nothing more than just to admire the world at rest as it wakes up. I learned that I softened up a bit since I started college. I learned I had managed to keep some really good people in my life, and I learned I had lost some of the negative ones. But most importantly, I learned that I don't know as much as I thought I did; and _that_ has given me my next adventure. I'm going to put these pieces back together. I'm going back to the start.

* * *

"Paige, I'm heading out, okay? If you need anything, call me," Rachel hollered as she scrambled to find her keys.

It was a few days after I had been discharged, and I had finally convinced Rachel that I was more than capable of getting through the day on my own while she was at work. Of course it was met with much protest and grumbling, but she finally gave in when I mentioned she would be of no help to me if she lost her job because she was too busy fussing over me at home. "I'm not entirely incompetent!" I shouted back. "I'm not a-"

"Gimp!" Rachel finished, laughing as she walked over to my bed and placed another water bottle on my night stand.

I pouted. "Shut up! I am _not_ a gimp!"

"God, I can't find my keys!" Rachel grumbled, taking a minute from screwing with me to pace around the apartment in a panic.

"They're right there," I pointed, smiling as she struggled.

"Huh?"

"Coffee table by the door."

Rachel left out a breath of relief, finally figuring out where I was pointing. "Thanks," she smiled, curling a finger around the key loop before turning back to me again. "You know it never gets old," Rachel smirked, cradling the keys she finally found.

"What?" I asked with a perplexed expression.

"Watching you get flustered. Bye!" and Rachel slipped out of the door before I had the chance to rebuttal.

Leaning back into my bed, I sighed, staring up at the ceiling to think. It was a little after 8, and I had been up for a few hours now. Rachel made sure to bring me some breakfast in bed, aka omelettes and medicine, along with a healthy-sized water bottle. Basically, she did everything in her power to give me no excuse to get up other than to use the bathroom. However, I think she knew very well that that wasn't going to happen. After being confined to a bed for two weeks, I needed to be moving around again, feeling something other than blankets and looking at something other than ceilings that needed painting. So, after shoveling in the last spoonful of my breakfast, I took a deep breath and willed myself the strength to get up.

Luckily, the crutches were neatly placed leaning on my nightstand, making getting up little more than a quick reach and a few low groans before I shifted my body into a more comfortable position. After spending the night looking at my cork board and the photos and reminders that adorned it, I wanted to look through my desk drawer to see what more I would find that might help in bringing some of those lost memories back. Although my desk was on the opposite side of the room, it took no more than a few paces to get there. After lining myself up with the chair, I slowly sat down, letting my leg slide out carefully as I leaned my crutches against the desk. I was surprised and slightly proud of myself that, upon opening the drawer, it seems I had kept everything relatively organized. Inside, there were a few folders, some pens, and several notebooks. I picked the first one up and opened it. A diary.

 _October 4th, 2016_

 _Work. Work. Work. Eat. Work. Work. Eat. Work some more. Drive home. Sleep. Yeah, that summarizes it well, don't ya think?_

 _October 14th, 2016_

 _I swear to God if my neighbors can't learn how to be quiet about it, they're gonna have to keep it in their pants. No one wants to hear that at three in the morning when they're trying to sleep! Make it stop!_

Oddly enough, that memory was one I had not forgotten, despite the accident. There were many more entries similar to this, and so I scanned them over and flipped through the pages until one entry caught my eye.

 _November 25, 2016_

 _I went over to the Field's home today, and for once it wasn't for Emily. She's out on a business trip all week, and so I found it to be the perfect time for me to make my visit without the risk of her knowing. I had been so nervous all day leading up to tonight though, and I thought my heart was gonna come right out of my chest when I rung that doorbell. It's such a weird feeling to be that nervous at a place you have learned to find comfort in, but I guess it's because today wasn't any ordinary visit, and the way the night went would have very large implications._

 _Still, despite my worries, dinner with Mrs. Fields went very well and her always welcoming spirit eased my nerves upon entering the doorway and being embraced in one of her warm hugs. I think she knew how nervous I was, as well as my intentions for being there, but she was still very gracious and didn't draw attention to it at all. From the lack of tear stains, I'm sure you can figure out what her answer was, but let me just say this: I am one very happy woman tonight._

 _Here's to next Friday, and that it all goes well._

 _\- Paige_

Immediately, the memories of that night began flooding back to me and I realized that perhaps this was the latest memory I had up until this point. I began searching through the folder Rachel had made of my medical files, looking for anything with a date on it, but all she had left me was a bunch of papers on my therapy exercises, and what medicines to take when. I slammed my fist on the table. _Where is my cell phone?_

* * *

 _"You almost home yet?" It was Friday night, and I had been waiting impatiently outside of my apartment complex for Emily every since she texted me that she had landed and made it through the baggage claims._

 _"Paige, you realize that the amount of times you ask that question has no impact on the speed of my arrival?" Emily laughed tiredly._

 _"That may be true-" I began._

 _"It is true."_

 _"But it doesn't hurt to try."_

 _I realized that the most childish smile had taken hold of my face as I began to lose my composure the more and more I teased."Why are you so anxious for me to be home?" Emily inquired._

 _"I always like it when you're home," I replied simply, trying to keep it together._

 _"Yes," Emily drew her words out. "But you're usually not this antsy about it. What's going on?"_

 _I smiled into the phone, biting my lip as I tried to contain myself. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Just tell the driver to move a little faster!"_

 _"Paige, I'm not going to ask him to speed just because you're a little excited." I heard her laugh again, clearly enjoying my childish antics._

 _"Oh, c'mon, Em. You're excited too, don't lie."_

 _"Of course I'm excited to see you. But Paige, it's only been a week. I've been on longer trips before," Emily rationalized._

 _"I know. But I've missed you. And I wouldn't be waiting to see you right now had you just called me to pick you up."_

 _Emily sighed. "Paige, you know I didn't ask for a cab. The company provided it. What was I supposed to do, tell them 'thanks but no thanks'?"_

 _"Yes, so your amazing girlfriend could come pick you up."_

 _"You mean my impatient girlfriend who only needed to wait ten minutes more to see me."_

 _I paused. "You almost home now?"_

 _Emily waited a moment, talking slyly into the phone. "Are you wearing a dress? And those flowers look beautiful. You did well."_

 _I scanned the area, trying to find a car. "How do you-" But then I saw her, stepping out in her form-fitting work attire with her suitcase in one hand and phone in the other,_ _displaying a knowing smirk on her face._

 _"I've missed you, McCullers. Now are you gonna keep talking to me on the phone or are you gonna hang up and come kiss me?"_

* * *

"Rachel!" I nearly shouted after finally making my way back to my nightstand where I had left my phone.

"Hey Paige. What's up?" It sounded like she was eating something. _Was she on her lunch break already?_

"When was I checked in to the hospital?"

"Uh," Rachel paused, probably straining to remember. "December 2nd. Why?"

"Thanks, gotta go," I spoke quickly, hanging up on her.

I turned then back to the calendar on my phone as I compared dates of the diary entry to the day I checked in. December 2nd- exactly one week after my last entry, the day Emily got back from her business trip- the day something important was supposed to happen... I picked up my phone again, dialing a different number this time.

"Hello?" a tired voice spoke, sounding broken and unfamiliar.

"Hi, Mrs. Fields. This is Paige. I hope you're holding up okay. I'm sure you have a lot of questions right now as do I," I paused, realizing I was rambling. _Relax, McCullers. Just spit it out._ "Would you happen to be available right now? I need to ask you something."

* * *

Well, that's it for now! I know it's a little short, but I figured it was better than nothing. Let me know what you think in the comments! I always appreciate your feedback. Have an awesome week, and stay well!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey everyone! I hope you are enjoying the story so far. If you have any feedback, bed sure to leave it in the comments. It's always appreciated.

Also, I was wondering if you would like me to respond to the comments you leave at the beginning of every chapter post like many of the paily authors do? If so, let me know that in your comments as well.

Thanks for reading, and have a great week!

* * *

Without so much as a hesitation, Pam agreed to meet with me so we could discuss the matters that had become so pressing in both of our lives. In any other circumstance, I would have driven over to spare her the drive, but as I had not been cleared to drive (or even so much as a walk around the house if you asked Rachel), Pam and I both agreed that it would be best if she met me at my apartment.

I've never been the best hostess. It's not that I don't care or put it an effort. In fact, it's usually the opposite. I end up making so much of a fuss and worrying over every little detail to make the right impression that I end up make a great big mess, leaving the kitchen in a disarray and my body full of stress. It's usually not a big deal for those small gatherings of just friends, but when the goal of the night is to make a good impression, especially a first impression, I become the walking form of anxiety.

I remember the first home dinner I was really trying to pull off something special was for Mr. and Mrs. Fields. It was the night I was to formally introduce myself to them as someone other than that girl who swims with their daughter. Of course they are some of the most welcoming people I have ever known, but that didn't stop me from absolutely losing my mind over trying to come up with something suitable for dinner. I remember spending the whole week going over in my head what I was going to say, what I was going to wear, how I would set the table, what I would pick for dinner, everything! It got to the point where it became noticeable to everyone that I was on edge, especially Emily. The day of the dinner, I was in full blown panic mode, racing around the kitchen trying to cook some elaborate meal I was not equipped enough to make, arranging flowers of which their names I couldn't even pronounce, and of course checking the time every five minutes because I was so worried that I wouldn't get it all done in time. Well it seems Emily knew I was going to be like this because she stopped by before the time we had agreed on dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I remember being caught of guard, staring at her with confusion and a lack of words because I was embarrassed that she was seeing me like this. But she simply set down her bag and walked over to me, giving me a hug and getting flour and egg all over her shirt in the process. "Just relax, Paige," she told me. "It will all work out." And for some reason, I believed her. When she let me out of the hug, she walked over to the recipes I had scattered across the kitchen counter and picked up on where I had left off. "Where's the chili powder?" she asked, as if I and the kitchen weren't the giant embarrassing mess we were. But I went with it. And in a few short hours, Emily and I were dressed to the nines in a house that didn't look like it had ever seen even a pinch of chaos.

Emily had a way with those sort of things- taking away your embarrassment and fear. It's for this very reason that I usually left the planning to her. Emily has a knack for seeing the smallest details, but pulling it off in a manner that is quite simple. I'd leave her in charge, and I'd take her orders until, together, we put together a platter and decor that was sure to please even the most pretentious of folk. All I need do is ask, and she'd be there. I wish that was the case right now. I wish she really was just a phone call away.

But it was far too early along in this journey of fear and unknowns for me to dwell on the present situation. I knew once I got in that state, it would be a hard pull to get me out of it, so I avoided focusing on my thoughts for too long in any given moment. I needed to be strong not only for myself, but for Pam (and Emily, of course). I could only imagine what she was going through right now, alone in that house with her only child laying unresponsive in a cold and unwelcoming room. _No, I wasn't going to go there. I said I wasn't going to think about it. God, get it together, Paige! Get off your lazy ass and make this place presentable. Do it for Pam. Do it for Emily._

Letting out a deep breath, I brought myself up off the chair I had landed in earlier and began making my way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. I knew very well that making a dish was not possible at the moment, but I figured that surely I could handle something as simple as a couple coffees for the two of us. Even getting to the kitchen though proved to be difficult as my hips and thigh began throbbing incessantly, which in turn triggered my ribs to ache, giving me sharp jolts of pain every time I tried to suck in a deep breath. I was immediately brought back to my days of swim team with my dad yelling at me on the side "just push through it" as if that were the only way I'd be worthy of something in his eyes. I bit my lip and grunted. _Just push through it, Paige. Push through it and get the hell over it._

Once I reached the cabinet, I propped my crutches up against the counter as I leaned on the countertop for support. It took a moment, but I was finally able to get the cup of coffee ground into a filter and brewing without spilling anything. While I was waiting for the coffee to finish, I decided to slide down the counter, much like the way I did on the wall of the ice rink when I was first learning to skate, and I grabbed a couple mugs off the shelf along with a tray. _If I go real slow_ , I thought, _I should be able to carry all this over to the coffee table without my crutches._

By the time I got back to the coffee carafe, the brew had finished. With the two mugs on the tray, I poured the coffee in them, leaving a little room on top in Pam's; I wanted mine black today. There was something about strong coffee that had the ability to overpower and somehow mask the bitterness that raged within me in times like these. I needed something to make me feel softer, and my favourite person wasn't here to do it, so coffee would have to do.

With the tray safely secured in my hands, I turned to make my first unassisted steps towards the living room. Terrible mistake. I hadn't so much as landed one foot safely on the tile floor than did a sharp pain travel up from my kneecap to my stomach, causing my body to jolt and the tray to go flying in the air. All I could do is watch as coffee spilt everywhere, burning my skin and providing the most convenient puddle for me to go slipping on. In less than a second, I too ended up on the floor alongside scalding coffee and broken shards of the mugs. A string of profanities left my mouth in uncontrolled volumes, and I pounded a fist on the floor, crying.

These incidents, of course, seem to happen at the _greatest_ of timings for me. Prior to today, the most recently example of this exemplary timing was the car accident on the day that was supposed to be the best day of my life up until that point. Now, however, it's this very moment of me lying on the floor amid my mess, unable to in any capacity clean up or help myself up, which so very conveniently is the same moment Mrs. Fields comes walking in using the spare key I had given Emily a couple months back. In any other situation, this would be the point where I'd move to some position at an alarming and skittish rate while persisting that everything was fine and that there was nothing to look at here. But I couldn't move, and there was a whole lot of a something to look at here. So I just lay there, looking helplessly up at a very fatigued and concerned Pam Fields as she looked back on my bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face.

I raised my arms ironically, offering a pained smile as I attempted humour. "Welcome to my humble abode, Mrs. Fields. Both I and my kitchen floor have missed you."

* * *

It was a good hour later after Mrs. Fields had helped me clean up myself and my kitchen floor that we had finally moved on from talk about exclusively my well-being to that of Emily's, something a little closer to the topic of what I wanted to talk to Pam about in the first place. "So have they let you go visit Emily yet?" I asked, adjusting the pillow Pam had propped up under my leg.

I never really took notice of how sad Pam's eyes looked until that moment. Before, there were traces of her normal self in her face. But now, nothing more than death took root in them. "Yes, I did. When I saw you, actually, is when they let me in."

I scrunched my face up in confusion. "Wait, saw me? I don't remember-"

"You were unconscious, Paige. I wouldn't expect you to remember. But I saw you. Naturally, of course, as you were situated in the same room as Emily to begin with until they deemed you stable enough to leave the ICU."

"I was in the ICU?" _They didn't tell me any of this._

"Yeah, for the first day at least. They didn't know if either of you were going to survive. You with internal bleeding or complications in surgery, Emily because of her head." Mrs. Fields played with her fingers, a deep contrast to the severity of her expression.

I paused, unable to resist asking the question any longer. "How did we get in the accident?"

"You were driving out with Emily after she came home from her business trip. You had just made it outside of your apartment complex, and got a few miles into the main road. You were driving straight through an intersection, green light, when a truck ran his red and t-boned your side of the car. From what the police explained to me that night, Emily saw the car come and leaned over to turn the wheel with her right hand. But as she leaned over, she hit her seatbelt buckle, leaving her arm stuck in the loop but her body free when the truck made contact with your car. Your leg and hip got crushed from the truck hitting your door and your ribs cracked from your body making contact with the air bag. Emily initially just had whiplash and was fine until the car behind you slammed into your back seat after you hit the breaks to avoid the initial collision," Pam paused, letting out a shallow breath before continuing. "Well the car behind you didn't notice, and that's what got Emily. The impact of that car sent her body flying forward, the loose seatbelt tearing her right arm out of its socket with the rest of her head and body flying in through the windshield. She lost consciousness on impact and stopped breathing. You were both unresponsive when the ambulance got there."

The rage and sorrow that filled me left me speechless and unwanting to speak. How could they not tell me this? How could anyone not tell me this?

"The car that hit you from behind is the one who made the call. She was unrelenting with her apologies and deepest regrets. She said it all happened too fast and that when your car spun out, it was too late for her to react. That doesn't change the fact that my Emily is in the hospital," Pam paused once again, collecting her emotions. "But it was an accident. An honest mistake."

"And the other driver?" I prodded, biting my lip as so to contain my anger.

"He was taken to the E.R. with you two, but he was released early the next morning. Police confirmed he was texting at the time of the accident, and he will have to appear in court."

 _Yeah, he'll have to appear in court, and a lot more if I ever get my hands on him_. "Great, that's just great," I muttered.

Pam grabbed my hand, bringing my glances to her for the first time in a while that afternoon. "Paige, listen, you know very well that I am just as upset about this as you are. He _will_ pay for what he has done. But sulking here with spite and contempt will do nothing to help this situation. It won't undo what's been done."

I sighed, dragging my hands down my face wiping away my nonexistent tears. It's only a wonder where Emily got her consoling heart from. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just- How _is_ Emily?"

Pam's expression dropped as her mouth formed a tight crease across her face. "She's stable now. Making progress, they say. There's no internal bleeding, and the swelling's gone down. They told me I should be optimistic but I- I don't know. I just walk in there and I see my baby girl, my _strong_ girl, just laying there helplessly with a tube down her throat and machine's pumping her full of god knows what to help her breathe and keep her alive. And that's not progress to me. That's heartbreaking."

For the first time in all my knowing her, Pam Fields was anything but optimistic and hopeful. And that in and of itself was enough to sadden me to the point that I no longer cared about what happened to me, but I needed to change things.

"Pam?" I asked, bringing her attention away from her own lap, finally gaining the courage to ask her what I had invited her here to ask. "What did I come to ask you on the evening of November the 25th?"

Pam let out a weak laugh, wiping away the tears from her face and smiling back at me. "Permission. You asked me for permission to marry my daughter."

I looked at her expectantly, as if to say "and..?"

Reading my expression, Pam continued, still smiling through the tears that had adorned her face. "And I said yes. I gave you my blessing and you went home that night the happiest I've ever seen you. You had it all planned out, the ring, the location, the speech, everything."

I paused in hesitance. "Did I happen to mention what date I was planning on asking her?"

"Yes," Pam laughed. "Oh god, yes. You wouldn't shut up the whole week about it, waiting for Emily to get home from her trip. It would have been so annoying if you weren't so cute about it. I suggested that maybe you wait until the day after she got back so that the two of you could get some rest. But you had it all planned out. That was the date, no way around it. And so I backed off. December 3rd it was, and you stayed up all night waiting for that taxi cab to come rolling up out front of your complex. That's why you were out that night. You were going to ask Emily to marry you. And by the looks of it, it would have turned out to be the night that Emily was planning on too."

 _Wait, she knew? I thought I had kept it quiet._ "What do you mean?"

Mrs. Fields fumbled for something in her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. "This was in her pocket the night of the accident. One of the nurses gave it to me with the bag of Emily's things, but I think you should have it," she rambled on, handing me the note. "It's really worn out. She probably had been carrying it with her every since she first wrote it all down."

I went to open the paper but Mrs. Fields cut me off. "Look, Paige, I think I'm going to head home now. I'm sure you're exhausted and would appreciate some time alone to think. I know it must be hard without your parents here to help you-"

"Mrs. Fields, it's fine. Honestly," I cut her off, not in the mood to bring up all of that drama again.

But if you need anything, call me," Pam continued with an insisting glare.

"Of course."

"But Paige?" Mrs. Fields began, pausing by the door.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't go trying to make any more coffee. I don't want to be visiting you in the hospital again."

I smiled. "Of course, Mrs. Fields. And thank you."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad to see you're okay."

And with the click of the door closing shut, I was left alone with one great memory, and one small piece of paper.

* * *

 _"Paige?"_

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"Do you have a bucket list?"_

 _Emily and I had been relaxing in her room for a while now, I laying on her bed finishing Calculus while she sat at her desk, reading over her lab report for Biology._

 _"Em, you already know the answer to that. You were there when we made it, remember?"_

 _"No, not that one. I mean, like your own bucket list. Like personal goals or things you want to do for other people or something? You know, the kinds of things you don't need someone else necessarily to get them done?"_

 _I gasped in mock offense. "Are you trying to kick me out of your bucket list?"_

 _"No, I just-"_

 _"I'm only teasing, Em. Yeah, I suppose I have a bucket list like that. Maybe not written down but, yeah sure. I got one. What about you?"_

 _"Oh yeah. Long list," she huffed, leaning back against her chair as she seemed to envision that very list as a projection on her ceiling._

 _This, of course, peaked my curiosity. "Really? Well what have you got on it?"_

 _Emily smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"_

 _"Yes, Em. That would be why I'm asking."_

 _"Well keep on asking," Emily teased, "But it will be on my dead body that you get to see it."_

 _I smiled, raising my eyebrows a couple times as I teased right back. "Ooo, you got some secrets on that list that you don't want me knowing about."_

 _"No. It's just, you know, private. Don't want to give away any spoilers."_

 _"I'm sure it wouldn't be hard for me to find," I smirked, watching Emily try to resist the smile that was creeping on to her face._

 _"Oh you think I'm that easy, huh?"_

 _"I bet it's in that drawer right there."_

 _Immediately, I jumped off the bed and started reaching for the drawer to the desk behind her. But Emily saw me coming and grabbed me by the waist, attempting to fend me off. "Paige, stop," she giggled. "Paige!"_

 _I began tickling her and the more I laughed, the more she squirmed. "Paige, Paige," she huffed. "I can't breathe, oh my god. Paige."_

 _I finally gave up, letting off her and standing by her side. "Fine, I won't go looking for your little list. "_

 _"Thank you," Emily let out in a deep sigh, finally catching up on her breath._

 _"But that doesn't mean I won't refuse it if I so happen to stumble upon it."_

 _"Fine," Emily relented. "But good luck stumbling upon it."_

 _"I will act like that was a sincere remark and return it with a thank you."_

 _"You're welcome."_

 _I laid back on Emily's bed and she joined me, curling into my side. "It's gonna happen you know. I'm a good person. And karma will have that thing come landing right into my hands."_

 _"You're such a loser," she grinned._

 _I smiled, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "I love you too."_

* * *

I looked back into my hands, peering at the title placed on the piece of paper. _My Bucket List_ , it read, printed neatly in a style I was all too familiar with. _Emily_ , I thought, _you better wake up soon. Because some things must be said in person, and I told you so is definitely one of them._

"Karma," I said aloud. "Landed right in my hands. Just like I said it would."

 _Now if only bringing you back into my arms were that easy._


	5. Chapter 5

Once again, my apologies for the delay in an update. I feel like this is becoming a routine saying of mine, but I sincerely mean it. I'm on spring break now, so I'm hoping that I can at least get a chapter saved to buy me some time when school resumes. Luckily, I should be having at least a bit more free time lately because, as those of you who follow me on tumblr already know, I finally got one of the three diagnosis I was seeing doctors for. For those who were curious, I've been diagnosed with dysautonomia, specifically P.O.T.S. (postural orthostatic tachycardi syndrome). It's a chronic illness that, while not rare, is often untreated, has no cure, and most doctors are unaware of. I encourage you to educate yourself on the issue and feel free to ask me any questions that you may have.

Sorry about the rant, but this diagnosis is something that's really impacted my life and I'm trying my best to spread awareness so the consequences of not knowing that happened to me doesn't have to happen for other people. And, with that, please enjoy this next update!

* * *

I had tried my very best at giving optimism a fair shot, but it's trial period has long expired and I did not get the results I was seeking, so to hell with that. Optimism was for foolish dreamers, pessimism for the masochists, but reality- that was for the intelligent. That was for the kind of people who wanted to function in this world without losing their sense of sanity or credibility, and most people won't choose it because they are too afraid of looking truth square in the eyes. But I wasn't afraid anymore. After what I have seen and witnessed in my lifetime, reality had nothing on me. In fact, all it had done was stirred the anger up inside of me that was begging for vengeance. And if life was going to propose taking my Emily, I was going to contest it.

My mother always said I had a problem handling my emotions, particularly that of rage. _Compartmentalize_ , she would say. _You're acting ridiculous. Just calm down._ I can still remember her commenting on it every night, as if it were some sort of bedtime story. It became so routine that I began drowning out her words with the manifestation of that rage. And the more she said it, the angrier I'd become. She didn't understand me. No one did. No one, that is, except my father.

I'm sure that's why he was the provocation that resulted in those thick, white scars that adorn my knuckles. He knew me so well that he knew exactly what it would take to set me off in such a way that I would become a slave to him. Over those seventeen years of living with him, my father had managed to warp my mind so well that I didn't even know he was doing it. All I knew was that I was angry and lost with no foreseeable way out. There were doors to opportunities and safe havens every possible way I could turn, but he had so blinded me that all I saw were mountainous walls caving in on me. It's no wonder I found release in beating up a brick wall. I was suffocating. I thought I'd never be able to catch a breath until he was buried so deep in the ground that there was no chance of him coming back. But he's been gone for five years now, and I'm no less a slave to him now as I was then.

Emily always disagreed with the latter statement. She never denied that I always seemed a little troubled growing up, but she thought it was reasonable for me to be that way. My dad was just an overbearing man, that's all, and I was just troubled. Like it was something we would both learn to grow out of. We argued once about it, but it didn't last long and soon I relented and told her she was right, I was just getting carried away. But in my mind, I knew, I wasn't getting carried away. My father was never just an overbearing man, he was a tyrant. And just as he did not grow out of his ways, nor have I grown out of mine. We are both twisted people forged from the same stone, and I hate it. I wanted to think Emily was right and that I was better than that, and for a while I really did believe it. But this trial I have found myself thrown into has proven to me that I really am no different, I just hadn't been tested yet. My father was an angry and disappointed man, and he took it out on me. Well now it seems that I am no more than a bitter and hateful girl who hasn't taken her chance to take it out on the world. And, after working myself up over my current predicament for the hours that filled the time after Pam left and before Rachel got home, I very well intended to take up on that chance. But then I got the call saying I had been granted permission to visit Emily, and so I went, even though she'd never know I came. I sat down in the chair next to her and caught a painful glance at the near lifeless body in front of me, and I began thinking how ironic life was. Here she was, the one who inspired a fighting spirit in me, the one who had breathed life back into my hopeless body, was laying in front of me unable to even keep herself alive.

And that's when I decided I wouldn't take that chance. Every opportunity we are given in life, while fulfilling some purpose, also takes away attention and time from all other opportunities that may be in our midst. I had been given many opportunities in my life thus far, but only one had really stolen priority over the others. And, while I never got to receive the consent I so deeply desired on this opportunity, I had already made a commitment to see it through. Emily was my commitment now. And while the temptation to go out into the world and throw my fist up in the air and scream at the top of my lungs was urging me so strongly to do its bidding, my duties lied elsewhere. Getting vengeance was of my own selfish desire, just as beating his child into a toy soldier was my father's. But I wasn't my father, and I didn't want to be his puppet anymore. I was Emily's, and Emily needed me right now. I needed to get better, for Emily's sake. And what better way to say F U to the man who spent his life working so hard to have me in chains than to steal back the happiness we rightly deserved?

* * *

"Hey, me and a few of the girls were going to go out to grab a bite to eat. Want to join?" Rachel was leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom with an energy that seemed to penetrate through the air to deliver enthusiasm. I was unaffected though, too drained from the week's activities and too concentrated on the matters at hand to rile up the enthusiasm of a girl's night out.

"No, thanks though."

Rachel pouted playfully, making her greatest effort to convince me otherwise. "Oh, c'mon. Hannah and Spencer will be there."

I shook my head slightly, letting out a quiet sigh. "Nah, really Rach, I'm good. To be honest, I'm a little exhausted and just want to relax alone for a bit."

"Okay, if you say so. If you change your mind, let me know. I'm sure the girls would be more than happy to hear from you."

 _Yeah, that's not going to happen._ "Alright, I will. Thanks, Rach. Tell them I said hi."

"I will. We'll miss you."

I looked up from my desk to shoot Rachel a smile before resuming reading as i heard the door click. Just an hour ago, she had picked me up from the hospital as visiting hours were almost over. I didn't want to leave. I would have put up a fight too, but I didn't. I'd like to think it was because I didn't want to trouble or embarrass anyone, but it might have just as well been because I didn't have the energy to do just about anything other than go along with what I was told to do. So I did. I withdrew into myself so as to become an emotional statue, squeezing Emily's hand one last time before pushing myself up off the bed with one hand and putting my cane forward with the other. I was just about healed, besides my ever so noticeable limp. But Emily was still in there in a state that I could barely stomach. _Still making progress_ , they said. _Slow and steady progress_. But I wasn't used to anything of the sort with Emily. We weren't slow and steady. We were wild and unpredictable. And that's what made our adventure fun. Now... I don't know what this is. But it isn't us, or at least not us as we once were. This was the new reality I was going to have to learn to get used to, and my stubborn nature was giving me a hard time allowing it.

I had reached a milestone today, though. Usually, this statement of progress would have had me up in arms, ready to fight the doctors on how my impatience wouldn't allow for these barely noticeable progressions. But I didn't even feel angry when they said it this time. Instead, I asked questions. I tried to understand the situation better. I tried learning what I could do to make the situation better. Of course, they told me there wasn't much I could do at the moment. So I pushed them. _What about the next moment,_ I asked. _What is she going to need? How can I make sure she has everything she needs when she gets out of this?_ They wrote me a list of things I could expect when Emily wakes up, and most of them weren't comforting- namely the part where she doesn't know who I am anymore. I don't know if I'd be able to handle that. But they said it wouldn't be an unusual thing to happen, given the circumstance, and it might not even be that severe. Maybe all she'd need was a way to jog her memories, to make her remember again.

I took the note from the doctors and buried it in my pocket until Rachel dropped me off at the house. Now, I had two lists in front of me- one from the doctor, and the other that was in Emily's pocket the night of the incident. Upon looking at them side by side, I noticed that they shared something in common. The doctors wrote me a list of things to remember. Emily wrote herself a list of things she would never forget.

 _Bucket List_

 _1\. Do something every day that would make my father proud._

 _2\. See the day in which my mom is happy again, whatever that means for her._

 _3\. Marry Paige McCullers, and start a family together._

 _4\. Sit on the front step of my house when I'm 86 next to the love of my life, sipping on a glass of lemonade and remembering when we did all those things we set out to do._

Sure, it was a bucket list, but it was so much more than that. It was the very heart of the Emily Fields I knew, and it had fighter written all over it. I knew that if Emily had a reason to come back, if she had something worth fighting for, she'd do her very best to come back to us. I don't care what any doctor had to say that she was mentally vacated. When I visited Emily today and held her hand in mine, I knew she could tell I was there. She couldn't tell me that, but she knew, And if I could come back to her, if I could let her know that there's unfinished stories here that need her in order to continue, I know she'd give herself a fighting chance. But she can't do it all. I need to give her a reason; and perhaps that is as simple as these two lists that lay before me.

* * *

I had never been the overtly creative type; it was too soft for my rough exterior. But in my mind, I was always dreaming, thinking, creating. I built a world inside my head that was far more appetizing than the world that lay before me. But then Emily entered my life once I was came to terms with opening up to her, and everything changed. Sure, there were many times that I couldn't stomach the reality we were living. But there were beautiful components, and those components made it so I didn't have to create an alternate reality because the reality before me was doing me just fine.

But then I met Rachel. She was the sporty type too, being on the swim team with me after all, but she also had her creative streak. She enjoyed art to help relieve the stress, and tried getting me into photography. I was skeptical at first. I mean of course I took pictures with my friends or for special occasions such as Christmas and vacations, but photography as an art? Didn't seem like my kind of thing. But she convinced me to give it a chance. It might help me relax,she said, so I don't use overexertion at the pool as my crutch. Initially, I refused. However, Rachel was five steps ahead of my stubborn nature and did the very thing she knew was necessary for me to no longer refuse her. For my 20th birthday, she refurbished her old camera and bought me a kit with all the essentials. After she went through all that work, I'd be hard pressed with guilt not to use it.

So I did. I picked up that camera after taking notes from her, and I got lost in this new world with an entirely different perspective. It got to the point where I wouldn't go anywhere without my camera handy. Rachel teased me for this, of course, always bringing up the fact that I had once been so adamant that photography really wasn't my thing. But I let her have her fun because truly we were both happier for the benefits of my new, calmer hobby. Emily, however, often tried to act like she was unenthused. I suppose that was understandably so as I was often pointing the lens her way. Deep down, though, I knew she liked it. I mean, if this were not the case, I wouldn't be sitting here right now with a laptop filled with footage and an empty scrapbook surrounded by stacks of prints with her laughing in them. _She was so happy_ , I thought. _What I wouldn't give right now to see that smile again..._

The sound of a low buzz took me away from my thoughts as I looked to my desk and saw my phone lit up. I slid my thumb across the bottom of the screen and answered. "Hello?"

"Ms. McCullers, we have some new information we'd like to share with you regarding your friend, Ms. Emily Fields."

I was too overcome with questions to even correct the man on the extent of our relationship. "Sir?"

"We checked her levels and did some more scans today to determine her progress and we have found her state to be stable and healthy enough to discontinue the use of pentobarbital."

Words became foreign to me in that moment as I tried to make sense of what I was hearing. "I'm sorry, sir, but what does that mean for me?"

"We are taking Ms. Fields out of her coma, Ms. McCullers, and we thought you might want to be here when she wakes up."

"What time are you expecting?"

"Within the next 24 hours. I must warn you though, she will be, at best, groggy. We want to keep her room calm and dark so she can adjust, so you won't be having long conversation. But if you want, if you want to just see her and let her know you're there, I wanted to extend the opportunity."

 _Emily was coming back to me. She was really coming back!_ "I'm on my way."

* * *

Like where the story's going so far? Let me know your thoughts in the comments :) Have a great week everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Two updates in one week, what?! Crazy, I know. This is what happens when I actually have some time to spare. A little bit of a longer update, but I hope you all find that to be a good thing. As always, I appreciate all the feedback I receive from you all and really look forward to seeing an email to let me know someone has commented. Thanks for your support, and let me know what you think!**

* * *

What do you say to someone when they wake up to you after months of thinking they had fallen into their final slumber? I'm so happy you're not dead? No. You don't say that. And, if you're like me, you don't say anything at all. Instead, you sit their with your jaw clenched so tightly that it has a hold on your quivering lip as you try your best not to let a single emotion escape; and that's exactly what happened. At twenty-four years old, I still couldn't show vulnerability in public. So I placed my efforts in trying to remain strong, holding back tears and trembling, because that's what my habits had taught me strength was.

I had been in the hospital for only a brief moment. My initial reaction upon receiving the phone call was to call Mrs. Fields, but she had been at the hospital for quite some time. As it turns out, it was Mrs. Fields who prompted the doctors to even call me in the first place, which left me feeling a mixed sorts of grateful and furious at the same time to think that I might have been excluded from seeing Emily when she woke up. Ultimately, I ended up calling a cab as she was already at the hospital and I didn't want her to have to leave Emily's side just to take me over.

When I got to the room, the first thing I noticed was how dark it was. I could just barely make out Mrs. Fields sitting beside Emily, cradling her hand. The windows were drawn and the only noise came from the sound of her heart monitor, something I was not used to. Before, there was the obnoxious sound of the ventilator that breathed for her, but it appeared that they had already taken that out. As my eyes began to adjust, I was taken back by how peaceful Emily looked. For the first time since the accident, she actually resembled the Emily I knew-human and capable, not a lifeless body guided by some aggressive machine.

I carefully walked in and took a seat by the door, not wanting to disturb Mrs. Fields. However, it seems I weren't quiet enough as she turned around and, after taking note of who I was, stood up and embraced me. "Paige, I'm so glad you made it."

"Me too, Mrs. Fiel- Pam. Me too." We held each other tight for a while, relating more in silence than in words. When Mrs. Fields started letting go, I pulled back and notice how fatigue had set in over her body. "How's she been?" I asked, motioning towards Emily.

"Alright. They stopped the medication that they used to induce her with a few days ago now. The first day she was really no different than before, just without the ventilator. She's been able to breathe on her own since, which the doctors are telling me is promising." I nodded, folding my arms and glancing over at Emily as Mrs. Fields continued to speak. "She started responding to me two days ago, which I was told means, for Emily at least, that she should be waking up soon. If you sit next to her and hold her hand, you'll probably see it too. I've been talking to her. It sound silly, I know, but every so often she'll squeeze my hand. I think she's trying to let us know she's coming back to us."

I smiled, though my expression quickly turned sour as I began to fear what was to come.

"How about you go take a seat next to her."

I brushed her comment off in polite refusal. "No, it should be you there. I can sit right here."

Mrs. Fields sighed, glancing over at Emily for a few seconds before returning her gaze to me. "I love my daughter, Paige, and I know she loves me too, but I really think she'd like having you by her side when she wakes up," Pam looked me in the eyes, squeezing tight to the ends of my fingers as she started to let go of her embrace. "Besides, I've been here for far too long and I should probably find something to eat and get some rest in. I'll be back. Take care of her for me, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," I gulped, realizing that whatever situation that would arise upon Emily's waking would be left for me to confront alone.

Mrs. Fields squeezed my arm one last time. "Take care, Paige, and don't worry too much. Everything is going to be just fine."

I smiled. It was something about the way the Field's women spoke that proclaimed the upmost conviction in their words that convinced even the greatest skeptics that they were speaking the truth.

"I will, Pam, and I'll call you if anything happens."

"I know you will. You're strong people, Paige. We're going to get through this."

It wasn't until Mrs. Fields had left the room that I suddenly became aware of how daunting this setting was. I anxiously approached the chair that was placed next to Emily and sat down, slowly bringing my shaky hand to hold Emily's. She had a clip around her finger, probably monitoring her heart. I tried to imagine that it wasn't there- that it was her hand and mine together, and nothing else, like it used to be. I tried, but my mind couldn't seem to dispel the reality of this scenario but instead grew flooded with ideas of how this new adventure I'd soon be embarking on would likely be unlike the comfort of what I had known. It worried me, terrified me even, that perhaps this was the one time I was not overreacting about the challenges that were in the distant future. And soon, I grew so weary of contemplating that I fell asleep, still grasping tight to Emily's hand.

* * *

I don't know how long I had been asleep, but it had been long enough for me to become startled when I felt something move across my cheek underneath the surface I had been resting on. Upon opening my eyes I realized where I was and everything started to set in. "Emily?" I asked, picking my head up off the bed and wiping the sleep out of my eyes.

Emily's face was scrunched up, her eyes closing tight and then relaxing as if to say she were just hearing her alarm and debating on whether or not she should listen to it and get up. The room was still dim, of course, so there really wasn't much light for her eyes to adjust to. But nevertheless, she still rustled in her sleep; it was like she knew somehow that it would tease me. If the circumstances were different, this might have been relaxing scene. But I was impatient to look Emily in the eyes again to wish her good morning, and hear her say it back to me in that soft voice she spoke in uniquely after rising.

"Emily," I prodded, brushing the hair out of her eyes and running a thumb across the back of her hand. "Emily, can you hear me? It's Paige. Can you open your eyes for me, Em?"

Emily rustled again, squeezing my hand slightly before fluttering her eyes. I held my breath in anticipation, biting my lip and eagerly leaning forward closer to her. "That's it, Em. Just open your eyes."

After a few more failed attempts at making any single motion, Emily's eyes flicked open narrowly and began searching the room. "Em, look at me," I whispered, trying to gain her attention.

I watched as Emily's head lazily moved in my direction, managing to catch my gaze. She looked confused and slightly afraid, so I squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Hey, Em. How are you feeling?"

"Where am I?" she croaked, letting go of my hand and attempting to sit up.

"You're in the hospital. You were in a bad accident."

"Where's my mom?"

"She went home to get some sleep. I was going to call her as soon as you woke up."

That seemed to put her at ease a bit as she sunk back down into the bed. As I pulled out my phone to text Mrs. Fields, she watched, and when I was done, came at me with more questions.

"What's your name?"

I knew I should have been prepared for this, but nevertheless, it caught me off guard. "Emily...it's me. Paige. Your-"

I watched as she gave me a once over, watching her expression change from tired curiosity to something of fear. "You're not a nurse.. What are you doing in here?"

"I-"

"No, what the hell are you doing in here? Nurse! Nurse!" she fidgeted in her bed, fumbling along the side of her rail as if to push a panic button. "Somebody help me!"

"Emily, relax. It's just-" I tried stopping the flustered movements she was making. Not only was it freaking me out and making me worried that someone would think I was actually hurting her, but I was afraid she was going to hurt herself.

"No, get off me! I don't know who you are, but you don't belong in here. Get off me! GET OFF ME!"

Emily sent a sharp jab into my stomach, causing me to double over for just a second. It wasn't until I licked my lips that I realized I was now crying, trying to calm down someone who I knew so well that I now appeared foreign to. "Emily, please stop thrashing around. You're going to rip an I.V. out. Just let me help-"

"She's assaulting me! Help! She's hurting me! Somebody help!"

I now heard the footsteps of several men running down the hall. "Emily..." I whispered pathetically, stumbling backwards as I tried to stop crying.

"You're scaring me," she whimpered, ceasing hitting me for just a moment. "Stay out of my life."

"Em, just try to remember. Please. It's me, Paige."

"Don't ever call me that again," she spoke sharply.

"Paige." It was someone else's voice this time, one I didn't care to recognize at the moment.

"Please..." I begged, pleading both with Emily and with the universe. But neither were going to let me have it. Instead, I felt the tug of the world and everything around me pulling me away.

"Get out!"

"Emily-"

"I said get her out!"

"Paige!"

* * *

"Paige... Paige!"

I felt a light grip on my bicep that was pushing me gently, trying to wake up me up. As I came to my senses, I realized my heart was racing as I was drenched in sweat. I leaned forward in the chair I was sitting in, balancing my elbows on my knees as I held my hand in my face, trying to calm down. "Just breathe, Paige. It was just a dream."

I recognized the voice as that of Mrs. Fields. She must have come back while I was still sleeping, unbeknownst to me obviously. Once I felt like I had come back to reality, I resumed lying back in the chair and looked around the room before I pulled out my phone. One missed text message.

 _Rach: Hey, Paige. Just checking in on you and asking to see how things are go. Don't feel rushed to answer me back. I know you've got a lot on your plate right now. But when you get a chance, please call me. We're all thinking about you._

I tucked my phone back inside my pocket, not bothering to respond to it quite yet. I was too distracted by everything at the moment. All I kept thinking was-

"She still hasn't come to," Mrs. Fields explained, reading my mind. "She's been fidgeting more though. We might be close."

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I don't know what was going on with me. I-"

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Paige. People have nightmares. It's nothing you need to be embarrassed about."

I just nodded, unsure of what else to say. Instead, I just looked over at Emily, noting that she was just as how I left her, peacefully asleep. _It was just a dream_ , I reiterated to myself. _It was just a dream._

After pausing for a moment, I stood up, motioning Mrs. Fields towards the chair I had vacated. "Please, take a seat. I think I'm going to take a little walk around the halls for a bit. I need a bit of fresh air."

Mrs. Fields nodded, giving me a sad smile as she held onto me with a hand around each arm. "Try not to stress too much, okay? These things take some time. Doesn't mean she's not coming back to us."

 _It's not her not waking up that I'm worried about,_ I thought. _It's what happens next_. But I didn't say that out loud; I was too ashamed to admit it. Instead, I agreed. "I know, Pam. I'm trying. I just need to clear my head."

"I'll let you know if she starts stirring."

"Thanks, Pam. I'll only be a moment."

* * *

The older I've gotten, the more I've realized how true it is that what we remember most is not all those details of those moments we thought were so significant at the time, but rather how those moments made us feel. That's where the bulk of our memories lie- in feelings. The feeling a certain smell, a certain song, a certain place make you feel. That's what you remember. But sometimes, these physical things make you remember the details of that moment, a moment you had hoped at the time that you would soon forget. This was one of those times.

Walking through the halls of the hospital was just one giant trigger of memories. The smell of death and disinfectant, the chill of the icy air, the bright lights that reflected off the white and blue tile, and the occasional rush of feet followed by absolute silence. This was a scene I was all too familiar with, even prior to my most recent stay here. For a while, this scene was my home.

It had been several years since I had last stayed here for any extensive amount of time, and I doubt anyone of the staff here would even recognize me. Nevertheless, I found myself avoiding eye contact with everyone and everything as I briskly walked through the hallways, keeping my head down and my shoulders slumped in the exact same manner that I had as a young girl here. _Just a few more minutes and I'd be alone_ , I thought. _Almost there_.

But my senses started to overwhelm me. The deeper the breath and the longer I stared, the more the memories started rushing my brain until it was all I could think about. So I started walking faster. Left, right, left right, taking the stairs two at a time until there were no more. I closed my eyes, feeling the cold sweat on my neck and chest as I ran my fingers through my hair. _Calm down_ , I yelled in my head. _What is wrong with you? You're past this, Paige. You're past it now. Calm down. Calm down!_

I beat my temple with the base of my palm, scraping my fingers down the side of my face as I tried to de-stress. Yelling never worked though. I simply couldn't calm down. I could fake it though. And if there was anything I was good at, it was faking it. So I took a deep breath, taking one last glance out of that large window at the top of the staircase I had once so often escaped to when I needed a chance to just be. I shook my hands out by my sides, urging them to stop sweating, and put a calm smile on my face. _Fake sanity, Paige. It got you out of here one time. Perhaps it can do it again._

I was about halfway down the hall when I felt my phone buzz.

 _Mrs. Fields: She's stirring again. I think it's time._

* * *

The movies paint a very different picture from reality in any circumstance, but especially those stories pertaining to illness. Hollywood can glamorize anything, exaggerate details, emotions, people. But in the case of illness, there is nothing at their disposal to exaggerate. Instead, those warm, fuzzy feelings that seem so romantic and beautiful are completely fabricated. They have no basis in reality and they are absolutely deceiving. If this were my Hollywood movie, this would be the point where I'd hold Emily's hand and watch her roll over and gently blink her eyes open. I'd expectantly call her name, begging her to come back to me, and she'd look me right in the eyes and smile, telling me something sweet like "I've missed you" or "I was hoping you'd be the first one I'd see". But this isn't a movie, this is life, and my current predicate is a stark contrast to that of my dreams.

"Do you think we should call the doctor?"

"Maybe," I replied, adjusting my position on the edge of the bed after insisting for quite some time that this is where I wanted to be when Emily woke up. "But I'd rather not."

Mrs. Fields shrugged. "I can't say I disagree."

She sat by Emily's side, looking onto her face with a worried expression as she rubbed her thumb over Emily's hand in a continuous back and forth motion. "What do you say, Emmy? No doctors?"

Mrs. Fields jumped up after speaking, looking towards me. "She squeezed my hand."

"Well that does it then," I remarked. "No doctors. I second the motion."

Besides the steady rhythm of her heart on the monitor, an anxious silence filled the air until Mrs. Fields found it appropriate to break it. "Are you sure you don't want to trade spots? Maybe she'd open her eyes a little sooner if-"

"Pam, I promise you, it's for the best. You know how high the chances are that she'll forget me and-"

"Paige-"

"No, let me finish," I pleaded gently. "You know how high the chances are that she'll forget me, and the chances of her forgetting you are much lower. I did my research and I understand how stressful of an experience this can be for the person coming out of a coma and I-" I gulped, swallowing back emotion. "And I don't want to frighten her if she doesn't remember me. If you're right by her side, I know she'll be comforted when she comes to. And if she remembers me, great. I'm at the foot of her bed and she'll know I'm here. But on the chance she doesn't, I can quietly slip away and there's no harm done."

Mrs. Fields just nodded, avoiding eye contact as if to keep her emotions in check as well. We both sat there in silence for a while, I watching the rise and fall of Emily's chest, and Mrs. Fields seemingly consumed in her own thoughts. I found myself relaxing as I fell in cadence with the rhythm of Emily's breathing until a sudden twitch took me out of my gaze. "Wait," I spoke, "Do you see that?"

Mrs. Fields pushed herself up off the bed and turned her head towards Emily again. "She's blinking, do you see that?" I reiterated.

"Emmy, it's Mom. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

I watched their intertwined hands, waiting to see Emily's reaction. After a couple long and painful seconds, I watched as Emily's hand closed in more closely to Mrs. Fields'. "She squeezed my hand," Mrs. Fields whispered, trying to hold back the happy tears that began forming in her eyes.

"Keep talking to her," I encouraged. "Ask her to open her eyes."

"How about you give it a try, Paige. She probably wants to here from you too."

I quickly pushed the notion off, not quite ready to face rejection if that was what my future would hold. "No, Mrs. Fields, please. She's responding so well to you. I don't want to overwhelm her. Just keep trying."

"Okay," she sighed, turning back to Emily again. "Emmy, I've been waiting a long time to see you. Paige is with me too. Please open your eyes for us, Emmy. It's time to wake up."

We both watched as Emily struggled to gain control over her body. I noticed her hands tense as she closed her eyes more tightly, unsuccessfully opening them. "That's it, Emmy. Open your eyes."

It seemed like hours as both Mrs. Fields and I sat in anticipation, both holding on to Emily. She grasped her hand gently, running soothing strokes over her palm as I rested my hand around her feet, mentally begging Emily to come back to me. Just as I thought I was going to need to suck in a breath of air from holding it so long, Emily's eyes began to flutter. I looked to Mrs. Fields, noticing the tears on her face as she excitedly bounced in her chair, encouraging Emily along. "Almost there, Emmy. You've got this."

With a few more flickers, Emily finally managed to open her eyes in a halfway squint as she became aware of the world around her. Mrs. Fields ran a hand up and down her arm, trying to make her presence known. "Emmy," she whispered, leaning in towards her face. "It's Mom. Do you remember me, Emmy?"

Emily looked over to her mother the same way she had to me in my nightmare, slowly and full of strained effort. "Mom?" she appeared to say, though no words left her mouth. Instead, a violent cough ensued, signaling me to jump off the bed and grab the water bottle I had taken earlier.

"Here," I said to Mrs. Fields, unscrewing the cap and handing the bottle to her. "Her throat is probably raw from the ventilator."

"Here, Emmy. You need to drink some water." Mrs. Fields slipped a hand to the back of Emily's neck, trying to support her as she brought the bottle to her lips and lightly tilted it back. "There you go. Easy now."

After Mrs. Fields deemed Emily had enough water, she slowly brought the water bottle back up and placed the lid on it. I walked over to her, taking the bottle out of her hands so she could turn back to Emily.

"Does your throat feel better now, Emmy?" Mrs. Fields began asking, but she was cut off about halfway through by a weak, croaky voice that had me stopping dead in my tracks, unable to breathe or speak. Emily ignored her mother's question completely, and instead directly her words to someone else in the room.

"Paige?" she managed with a sharp crack in her voice. "Is that you?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Paige? Is that you?"

You know those moments when you question if you're dreaming or not, even though you are fairly certain what you are experiencing is real? Yeah, well this was one of those moments for me. I almost didn't want to believe that I had really heard what I thought I did on the off chance I was wrong, and this was really just another horrible, twisted dream meant to get my hopes up. Nevertheless, I reacted as if it were truth, and I slowly turned around to face Emily.

"Hey, Em. How are you feeling?"

"It's really you?"

"It's really me. I've missed you, Em. You gave us all a scare."

"I don't-"

"Hey, let's not talk about that now, okay?" I urged gently, clasping both my hands around one of hers. "The doctors won't let me stay if they see you getting stressed."

Emily appeared to be holding back tears as she tried to calm herself down. I wouldn't let her know I was doing the exact same thing. "Paige, where am I?"

"You're at the hospital. We got into car accident, but you're going to be just fine, alright?"

Emily just nodded, bringing a hand up to her forehead as she tried to process everything. "You'll be back to kicking my ass in cross fit in no time," I joked, trying to get a smile out of her, even though I didn't even know if she'd be able to tie her shoes if she were to try. "I promise."

"My head-" Emily began as she scrunched her face up in a pained expression.

"I'm going to go get a doctor," Mrs. Fields whispered, silently excusing herself out of the room. "Excuse me, nurse!" I heard her holler as she jogged down the hallway, leaving Emily and I alone for a moment.

"Your mom's getting the doctor, Em. They probably just need to adjust your I.V. bag."

"It hurts," she whined, growing impatient and flustered.

"I know, Em. It's okay," I hushed as I watched a doctor enter the room, followed by Mrs. Fields.

The man approached Emily's bedside, opposite to where I was sitting. "Hello, Emily. I'm Dr. Rosales. I heard you were experiencing some discomfort."

"Yes, my head-"

"Don't worry. You should stop feeling that shortly. But while you're awake, I want to run a few quick tests on you, okay? I want to check your eyes. Can you look at my finger?"

The doctor turned on a small flashlight, which caused Emily to flinch at first as she adjusted to the light. Once she had relaxed, he started moving his finger side to side as her eyes tracked him. He turned the light off with a click. "Very good. You're making considerable progress, Emily. Often times, coma patients are unable to even speak after first waking up. You've had quite the support team throughout all of this, which really aids in the recovery process. Consider yourself very lucky."

"I do."

"I'm glad to hear it. You're probably going to be feeling very tired these first few days, but don't fight it. You'll start getting your energy back soon. To help speed up that process, I need you to make sure you eat and drink everything the nurses bring in for you. Someone will be in later in the day to assist you with your first meal."

"Excuse me, doctor, assist her?" Mrs. Fields interrupted.

"Yes, she will likely need some assistance relearning how to do basic, everyday routines. More precautionary than anything. Retraining her brain shouldn't take too long, given her age and fitness level. But some retraining is almost always necessary, especially after being out for as long as she has. But it's nothing to worry about, I assure you."

Mrs. Fields just nodded, looking over to Emily to observe her reaction. "Well if you don't have any other questions at this time, I will let you all be. Be sure to keep it dim in here, but feel free to open the blinds slightly. It's a good time for you to start adjusting to everything again, Emily, just don't push it too much."

"Thanks, doctor."

"Thank you. Get some rest. I'll check in on you again later."

When Dr. Rosales left the room it became apparent that he had left behind some unwelcome tension rooted in concern and fear.

"Well I guess I should leave you alone to get some sleep," I spoke abruptly, rising from my chair and avoiding eye contact.

"Paige, don't leave-"

"The doctor said you needed rest, Emily." My tone was harsh. I knew it as soon as it came out of my mouth but there was no taking it back. I had a way with coming off aggressive when I was scared. It was the only way I ever learned to cope. Emily was gentle though, for she didn't fight back. Or perhaps she was just too tired to care.

"I know, just- Wait until I fall asleep, okay?"

I sighed, reluctantly joining her by the bed.

"I'll be outside," Mrs. Fields whispered, excusing herself awkwardly until it was just Emily and I.

"Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"Hold my hand?"

I reached out gently towards Emily's hand that still had an I.V. taped to it. It was then that I noticed how shay I was, and how my uneasiness wasn't well hidden. "The girls have been asking about you a lot, you know? I've been getting messages all night asking for updates and making sure I let you know they're all thinking of you."

"Mmm," was all she managed to say, and I watched as Emily closed her eyes and tried to get comfortable.

"I was talking to Rachel before you woke up. The one from my swim team? Yeah well, she of course told me to let you know you were in her thoughts, but also someone else who was missing you. Can you guess who it was?" She didn't respond, but I could tell from the rate of her breathing that she had not yet fallen asleep, so I continued. "Rudy. You remember Rudy, right? That dog I got you after we walked past that shelter and you fell in love with puppy in the window? God that seems like so long ago now... But you just had to have him. So of course I got him. I mean he made you happy, why wouldn't I?"

Emily had certainly fallen asleep at this point, but I had been trapped inside my head for so long that I just needed to let it all out; so I kept talking. "All I wanted was for you to be happy, Em. I just wanted to make you happy. And maybe if I had've just listened to your mom and let you stay in for the night and rest-" I held my breath, trying to resist the urge to cry. "Maybe we wouldn't be here right now." I sighed, letting a tear fall. "I'm sorry, Em. I'm going to make this all better again, okay? I'm going to make sure you have everything you ever dreamed of. I just need some time."

Emily shifted once more, squeezing my hand reflexively. She was too far gone to hear me now, I knew, but it gave me some comfort all the same. "I love you, Em. So much," I choked out before leaning in to kiss the top of her head. "Don't ever leave me again."

After looking over her one last time, I got up out of her bedside chair and made my way out into the hallway to see Mrs. Fields. "She's asleep," I said, sliding my hands into my pockets as she stood up from the bench she had been sitting on. "I think I'm going to head home. The girls are probably waiting for an update."

Mrs. Fields nodded, stepping forward to hold me close in a hug. "Thank you, Paige."

I was confused and taken back. "For what?"

"For being you."

I said nothing. Instead, I returned her comment with the same confused expression I had before.

"When Wayne died, I lost my best friend and I became undone in the months that followed. I thought I knew what it meant to be strong and hold a family together, but I could barely take care of myself. You never lost Emily, Paige, but you almost did. And the way you've been handling all of this- well that's what true strength is. I feel safer knowing that Emily has you by her side in this journey. It makes the future seem a lot less scary when you have your best friend to go through it with."

I didn't know what to say, so I said the only thing that felt right. "Thank you, Pam. I'm lucky to have you."

Mrs. Fields wiped her eyes and smiled, losing her grip around my arms. "Get some rest, Paige. Emily's going to need you a lot these next few months."

"Goodnight, Pam."

"Goodnight Paige."

* * *

I didn't sleep well that night. I was up late letting the girls know how Emily was fairing, and then up even later thinking about how Emily was actually fairing. Truth was, I didn't know. I barely got to talk to her and when I did, I didn't know what to say. There was so much that was on my mind to tell her, but something was holding me back. Fear? Maybe. I'd like to place it all on the fact that I didn't want to overwhelm her, and I believe that's fair to say. But I was also worried because I didn't know how she would react to anything I said. I still don't know how she'll react. How much is too much, and what is enough? I don't know. I should know, I keep telling myself, but I don't. The doctors say that it's not uncommon for patients to wake up and have an entirely differently personality than the one they had prior to the incident; it's as if they aren't the same person anymore. I fear that, I used to face it all the time, and yet I don't know how to face it when it becomes so personal. Emily was the one who always go me through my fears. Now that she is my fear, I don't know what to do.

I rolled over and looked at my clock. 8:31. Too much thinking for the day. Time to get up.

* * *

As a kid, I always wanted to be a firefighter. I'd dream of putting on that uniform and hearing the bell ring at the station. I'd slide down the fire pole and climb into the engine as the sirens roared widely. In my mind, I was always the rescuer. My partner would hook up the hose to the hydrant and put the fire out as I climbed into the building being consumed by raging flames that licked at my heals. I'd get all sweaty with a single drop of blood rolling down the side of my face. I'd rescue the girl screaming inside of the window and carry her down to safety, letting my dog Spot come lick her face and make her giggle. All would be well again, I'd have a new friend to play with, and I'd make the community proud. Being a firefighter was where it was at. Dreams change though.

I turned thirteen and I took my first step into the door of reality. Dreams became fiction, reserved for movies and books. Reality was a cold and barren room in Kroser Hospital. Flames didn't consume this building, but rather judgement and restraint. It was my own personal hell. I was locked away for doing bad things. Seems the only one I was hurting though was myself. My parents weren't too bent up about it. Just angry and embarrassed. They left me there more out of legal obligation than genuine concern. But that didn't stop the sympathy meals from arriving at their front step. They put on the morose face and accepted these gifts gracefully. Then as soon as the door shut they were back to themselves. Probably avoiding all thoughts of me as doing so would only bring them discomfort.

I, however, was not receiving such treatment. Instead, I was being shamed by the open door policy and the couch of feelings. Scheduled colouring time and sit down meals during which your entire plate had to be cleared, whether you liked string beans or not. They were avoiding thinking about me while all I could think about was them and how they were the reason I was stuck there for six weeks. Years, I realized it wasn't them; it was me, and I stopped blaming them. The bitterness, however, never went away.

By seventeen, I realized I didn't want to be that firefighter anymore. I wanted to be another kind of savior- the kind that doesn't do the saving, but rather, facilitates it. Upon graduation, I became a rehabilitation counselor for teens. I didn't work at Kroser; I wasn't ready to go back there. Instead, I worked at an intimate outpatient facility at Riverside. That's where I spent my days up until the accident. It was Rachel who let everyone know I wouldn't be in for an indefinite amount of time. She told me everyone understood and were there if I needed anything. My boss sent me an email telling me to take my time, and they'd have me back as soon as I was ready. With Emily awake now, I think now is that time. After being out of work for so long with the medical bills piling up, I'm short on time that can be spent on not bringing in a paycheck. Plus, with all that's going on, it would be nice to have a healthy distraction.

I pull out my phone and begin typing a number that had nearly been lost from my memory. Four one zero-

I stopped typing as my phone lit up with an entirely different number this time. _Pam Fields_. I answered.

"Hello?"

"Paige? It's Emily. I think you should come over."

"I'm on my way."

* * *

 **Please bear with me! I got messages and comments from a few of you asking for updates and to not leave you all hanging like that. I wasn't feeling too great this weekend and so I was unable to write and get a post up as I had planned. Even though it's short, I'm hoping this served as a little something to tide you over until I can get another chapter up. Stay well, and I look forward to hearing from you. Xx**


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as I got off the phone with Pam, I immediately dialed Rachel's number, waiting until it went to voicemail. And again. And again. And again. "Fu- Answer me!" I yelled, feeling the tears well up in my eyes as I paced around my apartment floor, getting frustrated. "Dammit.."

I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to clear my head enough so I could think. _How the heck am I going to get there if she won't..._ "That's it," I muttered, grabbing my keys off the desk as I bolted out the door. "Time to see if all those hours at physically therapy actually paid off."

* * *

I hadn't run since the accident, and it was noticeable. I almost had to teach myself how to run again. _Left, right. Left, right_. I told myself, trying to keep a constant rhythm. With the landing of each foot, a growing wave of pain would hit me in my leg and hip. I shook my head, trying to brush it off. _Just three more blocks Paige, you got this_.

I continued this form of self-motivation until I found myself running through the hospital doors. I had been here so much as of late that I had no need to ask anyone where to go. I simply ran up to Emily's floor and wrapped the corner around to her hall. Pam was already waiting for me outside the room, looking rather worn down.

"Hey, what's going on?" I breathed, slightly out of breath. I was still going off the momentum of my run as I found myself nearly flying through the entryway of Emily's room, only to be stopped by a strong hold on my arm.

"Paige, before you go in there, I think I should warn you. Emily's been... a bit out of character. The nurses and I have been trying to calm her down but nothing is working. I called you on the off chance that she'd respond better to having you in there. But if she doesn't-"

"What do you mean 'out of character'?"

"She's been yelling at all the nurses and myself. She won't let anyone touch her."

"Why were they trying to touch her?"

Pam sighed. "She doesn't have control of her bladder. It's part of the retraining her brain area, the doctor said. The nurses just wanted to clean her up and change the sheets, but she wouldn't have it. I think she's embarrassed."

"How long has she been like this?"

Pam shrugged. "I don't know. Since I got here, I suppose. I got a call from the staff asking me to come and see if I could help."

I nodded, staring at the floor as I tried to mentally prepare myself for what was waiting for me inside.

"But I wasn't able to," Pam continued, dropping her arm to her side. "So don't feel bad if she seems angry with you too."

"I understand," I muttered, retracting my gaze from the floor. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

Pam nodded, and I took that as my cue to enter. I took a deep breath and then walked in slowly, taking my time to make eye contact with Emily. Once I had made a few steps in without any signs of rejection, I looked up and took notice at the person on the bed. She was curled up in a ball, hair disheveled with her bedsheets cast haphazardly across her frame. Her head was cast down in such a way that her swollen, red eyes were the most prominent feature on her face. I would almost say she looked deranged except that the emotion in her eyes was not that of violence, but of fear.

"Hey, Em," I broke the silence, making sure to continue a slow pace to her bed. "It's Paige. I wanted to come by and visit you. How are you feeling?"

"Liv me ah-lone," Emily choked out.

I hadn't noticed before, but it seems now with her emotions out of control and her willingness to speak longer sentences proved that Emily had acquired a certain kind of lisp that was reminiscent of the ones I heard when working with stroke victims.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

No response. Emily lost her eye contact with me, simply acting as if I weren't there. So I sat down. I didn't need her to talk much now anyway.

"It's a good day to curl up under some blankets. When I was running over here, the sky looked pretty grey. I think it's gonna rain later."

Emily brought a hand up to wipe her eye, and I noticed her grasp around her legs began to relax.

"You know, when I came the other day, I brought a bag of your clothes over. See that backpack in the corner there?" I pointed to the chair near the window and watched as Emily followed the line of my finger. "Did you want to pick out an outfit? I'm sure it will be a lot more comfortable than that hospital gown."

"Fug off," Emily sneered, making direct eye contact for the first time that day. "You're just like the rest of th-ehm."

I reached my hand out to cover hers. "Em, I just want to make you more comfortable. You'd feel a lot better after a bath and putting on your clothes, not this hospital crap. I know I felt a lot better after I-"

"You don' know- h-how I f-feel! Don' tell me how I should feel. You don'-t under-stand."

"You're right, Em. I don't understand. So help me out, okay? I want to know how I can help you. What do you need right now?"

"I need you to go- away."

"Well I can't do that. How about something else?"

It was a moment before Emily spoke again as she tried holding back tears and coming up with the best thing to say next. When she finally spoke again, it was through the muffle of salty tears.

"I can't control my b-body. I tok 'ike an idjiot and- This m-morn ning I wet the- bed. I-I can't do anuhthing any-more."

As Emily started to cry, I leaned in and wrapped my arms warmly around her, letting her tears stain my t-shirt. "That's it, just let it out." Emily continued to cry, though not so harshly this time as I felt her body begin to calm down. "You've had a hard week, Em. You're doing great. Just hang in there."

I rubbed soothing circles around Emily's back as she tried to regain control over her erratic breathing. As her breaths began to slow, her grip on the shoulders of my shirt began to relax and slowly, she pulled away. "Em, you know I love you, right? But I can't help you if you don't let me know what's wrong."

She wiped her tears before speaking again. "I don' wan' the nurs-es t-tuchin' m-me."

"They have to, Em. It's part of their job."

"It's hu-mil-iating."

It took me a moment before I realized what she was talking about, and I sighed. "Em, if this is about the bed, you don't need to be embarrassed. If you want, I can talk to the nurses and see if they'll let me help you. Would you like that better? I can bring that bag over and you can pick out what you want to wear and we'll get you all fresh and back to feeling more like yourself. How about that?"

"Okay," was all she managed as she wiped clear her irritated eyes one more time.

"Okay," I sighed, putting a hand on her knee before standing up. "I'm going to go get a nurse right now and ask them. Do you want your mom to come back in to keep you company?"

She shook her head. "P-please s-stay. A-ask her too?"

"Okay," I relented, walking towards the door. _It's going to be a long day._

* * *

After some convincing on Pam's part, the nurses agreed to let me help Emily get cleaned up as long as I used a wheelchair to bring her in and a bathtub with limited water. While Emily was getting changed, the nurses would change the sheets and bring in lunch.

"You ready?"

The nurses waited outside upon my suggestion, waiting until we cleared the room to begin their work. Emily pushed the blankets to the side, using her hand more as one unit than one capable of grabbing and holding with individual fingers. She did not answer me audibly, but simply nodded her head. It seemed that speaking had become one of her many insecurities since coming out of the coma.

"Put your arms around my neck," I told Emily, leaning in to pull one arm around her waist and the other under the folding of her legs. Once I felt she had a strong enough grasp, I picked her up slowly and let her down onto the seat. "Can you hold these for me?" I asked, placing the t-shirt and sweatpants she had picked out in her lap as I wheeled her over ten paces to the bathroom.

Getting the both of us in there was a tight squeeze, but it was doable. I started running the water, waiting for it to warm up as I took the pile of fresh clothes from Emily. She remained quiet throughout the whole ordeal, starring blankly at the wall as her thoughts ran rampant. I waited a minute before placing two fingers under the stream of water, trying to test if it was the right temperature yet.

I turned to Emily, noting the apprehension in her expression. "Alright, water is all good. Are you ready?"

Emily nodded once again, still avoiding eye contact with me. "Do you want me to help you with the gown or are you okay?"

I noted her hands, watching as her thumbs picked at each other in attempt to cope with the anxiety that ran through her. Across the back of her right hand was a patch of skin that was seemingly lighter from where the tape had held down her I.V. It was weird not seeing her hand consumed by that needle, but it was welcoming.

Emily said nothing, but tried shrugging the gown off her shoulders as her uncoordinated hands came up to help. The tie in the back was already undone, so it fell off her body rather easily. Still, the process was slow, as Emily grew in reluctance and shame from taking the whole thing off. I looked at her face. Her lip trembled.

"Em, are you okay?"

She shook her head. "I-I'm-"

I stopped her right there. "Ssh, I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear it." I crouched down so we were eye level. My hip seared in pain. I ignored it. "Look at me, Em. Hey."

I gently brushed a finger under her chin, pulling her glance upward in the same fashion that she had once done to me in one of my weaker moments. "You are beautiful, and I love you, and I will always love you. Nothing is going to change that. Not even this. Okay? Let me hear you say it."

"Okay."

"Okay. Let's get you in here then, alright? You let me know if the water is too hot and I'll change it."

Emily nodded, biting her lip as I helped peel away the last of her gown and her sodden undergarment. I could tell she was still uncomfortable, but I knew the fact that she held onto me tight as I lowered her into the bath was her own way of showing me she trusted me with her vulnerability. "Are you comfortable?" I asked, looking her in the eyes as she tried to position herself in the tub.

Emily nodded, "Yeah, thanks."

I offered her a smile before turning around and placing the dirty clothes in a plastic bag, returning with the washcloth and soap I had packed. "Ssh," I whispered, wetting the cloth before adding a dab of soap to it, "I'm not supposed to be using this soap, but I had brought along a bottle from home and I couldn't let it go to waste."

I sat down on the side of the tub, waiting for Emily to look at me. "It's lavender, you know. Your favourite."

It took a moment, but Emily smiled back. I had never thought about it, but perhaps Emily didn't remember her favourite scent anymore. Maybe she didn't remember Rooney, or that trip we took to Canada last fall, or that time when I forgot I put cookies in the oven and the whole kitchen became consumed by black smoke. Maybe she didn't remember that list she wrote, or the business trip, or the night of the accident. Maybe she didn't remember much at all. But whatever led us to this point led her to smile. And whatever that reason was, I was content with it.

* * *

"I don't know what you did, but whatever it was, thank you."

Emily was back in bed, passed out in clothes that were more reminiscent of home under a couple layers of blankets. She was at peace again.

Pam, however, was not. I could sense the edge in her voice and as I did, I knew I had to play the fearless adult as Pam recoiled into helpless role of a child who doesn't know what's going to happen next. "She's been through quite an ordeal. It's understandable that she'd lash out. In fact, I'm surprised it wasn't worse."

Pam nodded, smiling like a woman who had just gone through a battle of her own. "Pam, remember what you told me when I got here? Don't take it personal, right? Emily didn't mean any of it, whatever she had said. She just doesn't feel like herself quite yet, but we're getting there. She'll come back to us. I promise."

And that's when I did something rather uncharacteristic of me that I actually surprised myself. I leaned in and held Pam close in a hug. "Emily loves you, Pam. You know that. It's going to be alright. Just give her some time."

I heard Pam whisper a quiet "I know" as she squeezed me tight. "I've never been good at waiting."

"But you have," I said, catching her attention. "Every time Wayne was deployed, you faced the unknown with the kind of bravery and patience that Emily emulated. This situation may be far removed from the game of guns and tanks, but this is a battle all the same. We're going to be on the winning side of this, Pam. You just have to hold onto that courage you have left inside."

Pam smiled, wiping away happy tears this time. "You've become quite the young lady, Paige, and I'm proud of you."

When Pam meant me, she knew nothing of my history. But as Emily and I grew closer, the story came out, and she was able to accept that part of me alongside all the rest.

I hadn't heard that in a while, that someone was proud of me, so it meant a lot. But coming from someone as dignified as Pam Fields, it meant even more. "Thanks, Pam. I learned it from the best."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Thank you for your patience with updates, as well as learning the extent of Emily's trauma. I understand some of your frustrations, but I think it's best not to rush it. But while you are waiting, I'd love to hear your predictions of what you think will happen next. Have something you like or a critique of what you think could be done better? Let me know in the comments. Have a great week, and I look forward to hearing from you soon :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Several weeks had passed since I had been called to the hospital to help soften a harsh situation, and I hadn't received a call since. Emily, it seemed, was on her way up, and I was learning to make strides myself. Knowing that Emily was in good hands and didn't need me as much allowed for some much need personal time. I wasn't aware of it in the moment, but having all my energy focused on Emily and what was going to happen next resulted in a stunting of my own recovery on the path back to normalcy, whatever that is. With Emily's independence strengthening, I found myself comfortable enough to return to my old routine. And that started with my morning run.

People always say that running sounds like a great idea until you actually start it. I never really understood what they meant until now as my weak and tight muscles started grabbing me in the leg with every stride. My breath beat out the low music I had playing in my ears and slowly my body began to cave inward, and I was growing more and more out of breath with each staggering step. I was barely a mile into the run and my body was already ready to give out on me. I used to be able to run a mile in my sleep; this felt pathetic. But I decided it was better not to push too far and have to start over entirely on muscle training, so I finished off at the point the trail met a park bench and mentally thanked myself for deciding to put on that knee brace.

 _Rach: Hey, just came by your place to pick something up and no answer. Where are you? Is something wrong?_

I wiped my hand on my shirt in attempt to rid it of the sweat before typing a reply. _Went on a morning run. What were you coming for?_

 _Rach: I left my charger at your house and my back up is broken. Are you gonna be back soon?_

I sighed. _On my way._

 _Rach: Thanks! You're the best!_

* * *

"So, got any plans for the day?" Rachel asked with the energy of a five year old.

I shoved my key in the lock, desperate to be able to take this sweaty brace off and sit again. "I was going to go shower and then head off to work."

Rachel gave out a soft chuckle. "Paige, it's Saturday."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Sounds like sleep hasn't been a part of your routine as of late."

I shook my head as if it would wear off this disorienting feeling I had succumbed to. "It's not the McCullers way."

"Apparently not," she muttered, making strides across my living room as I finally stepped aside from the door. "So you're free then?"

"I guess so. But something is telling me it won't be that way for long."

Rachel finally spots her charger plugged in to the outlet and gets a relieved look on her face. "And why's that?"

"Because you've got that look in your eye like you have some plan you're gonna drag me into."

She turns around, leaning against the counter and giving me a smirk as she places a hand on her hip. "Dragging has a rather negative connotation, Paige. What about joining me for the ride? Doesn't that sound better?"

"Is that what will make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Then sure, Rach. It sounds wonderful," I groaned, easing down into a chair. "What have you got planned?"

Rachel squealed. "Oh you're going to love it! Just wait until I tell the girls who I got to come!"

* * *

The last place I ever thought I'd be on a mid-Saturday morning was a spa with cucumbers on my eyes and fish eating away at the dead skin on my feet.

"Isn't this awesome Paige?" Rachel asked with her typical giddy excitement, giggling from the way the fish tickled her feet.

"Oh, just fabulous," I spoke with dead sarcasm as I felt a cucumber slowly begin to slide down my left cheek, which allowed me to catch a glimpse of Hannah whose mouth was wide open in complete ecstasy.

"Oh, c'mon Paige. It's okay to admit you enjoy something stereotypically girly. You can't seriously tell me this doesn't feel ah-mazing."

Hannah was right. This did feel pretty good, ignoring the awkwardness the cucumbers made me feel.

"Fine, I'm enjoying myself. Happy now?"

"Paige admitting she's enjoying herself? I never thought I'd live to see the day!" Spencer teased.

"Okay, okay. You guys done poking fun at me now?"

"Yes, but only because there are more important matters at hand. How's Emily? Will she be able to come home soon?"

I finally took the cucumbers off my eyes and sat up, enjoying the way the warm water seemed to relax my whole body. "I don't know, Han. Her release date has always been tentative and entirely based on her progress in therapy. They want to make sure she has some basically level of competency before they send her home. With the way it's been going, their guess is a couple weeks. But that could always change at any moment."

Hannah sighed. "These therapists are testing my patience. I may have to march up there and release her myself."

"Hannah, they're professionals. I think they know what they're doing."

"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad, Spenc. We are at the spa for a reason. Relax."

"I was merely saying-"

"I don't care whether you meant it to be merry or downright offensive. I miss my friend and I can steal her back if I want to."

"Hannah, you realize I'm one of those idiot therapists, right?" Rachel pipes in.

"You people and your sensitivities. Gosh, it was a joke people. I wouldn't actually break in."

If it weren't for the cucumbers on her eyes, I would be giving Hannah a knowing look right about now. "Right, because that's never happened before."

"Ssshhh, I thought we agreed we would never talk about it again."

"Talk about what again?" I bantered.

"Good," Hannah huffs. "So when are you seeing her again anyway?"

I paused for a moment before letting out a deep breath as I checked the time. "Probably after we finish up here. She usually has therapy time blocked out in the afternoon, so maybe I can catch her for lunch."

"Awww, a little lunch date. How cute," Hannah cooed.

"Hannah, they're in a hospital. I don't think anything romantic is going to be happening there," Spencer remarked.

Hannah, the last one of the group to do so, took the cucumbers off her eyes so she could look Spencer dead in the eyes. "Last time I checked one of the most romantic scenes took place in a hospital."

"Oh yeah? Which one? _The Fault in Our Stars_?"

"No, _The Notebook,_ duh. They died together in their hospital beds."

"I'm pretty sure that's not what Paige was going for when she said she'd meet Emily for lunch."

"That's not the point Spencer."

"So what was the point?"

"That romantic things can happen in a hospital, okay?" Hannah huffed, clearly getting frustrated. "Is anyone else ready to leave? I think if these fish are allowed another minute at my feet, I'm going to have no skin left to spare."

"Hannah Marin asking to leave the spa? I thought this day would never come," Spencer mocked as I tried to hold back a laugh.

Hannah folder her arms, awkwardly getting out of her chair. "Oh, shut up and let's go. Paige has a romantic date to see herself to."

* * *

After saying goodbye over the course fifteen minutes because someone kept having just one last thing to say, I finally was able to leave for the hospital. Without even thinking about it, I jogged up the stairs and found my way to Emily's hallway that had become as familiar to me as my own apartment complex. Once I made it to her room, however, I was shocked to find it was empty. And not just empty of Emily, empty. Empty as in the bedsheets were neatly folded and chairs placed in their traditional spots without so much as a trace of Emily ever being in there. The flowers were removed, cards taken down, and the bag of her personal belongings was completely absent from the chair in the corner I had spent many an afternoon in. I started to panic as I approached the nurse at the desk in her floor.

"Excuse me, I was coming to visit my friend but her room is empty. Was she moved?"

"Who's your friend, ma'am?"

I was such a mess that I didn't even think to mention her name. As if she was supposed to know who my special friend was. "Uh, Emily Fields."

I picked at the skin under my nails as the nurse typed something in on her computer. "It looks like she was discharged early this morning."

I let out a sigh of relief. She was fine. "Great, thank you."

"My pleasure, ma'am."

* * *

I started pacing down the hallway as I made my way out of the hospital and to the corner of the street where I was able to pull my phone out and text Pam. _Hey, I just stopped by the hospital and heard Emily was discharged. Is she with you or at her apartment?_

 _Pam: Both, I'm still helping her get settled in. Come by?_

I smiled, typing quickly as I started on my way over. _Be there in ten._

* * *

Emily's apartment complex was nicer than mine to say the least. It felt more like a community of several townhouses, complete with a pool and fitness center. Of course that had it's downfalls too, like higher pricing and snootier people, but that could be easily overlooked for the amenities. Oh, and my new favourite aspect of her apartment, it was on the first floor. My hip and knee thanked me tremendously.

It wasn't long before I approached a door that had a little silver 2 hanging above its knocker. I rapped against the door for a few times before calling out, "It's Paige."

"Door's unlocked!" I heard someone holler. _Pam._ I let myself quietly, unsure of what I'd be walking into.

I found Pam standing with her back faced towards me as she stood between a couple bags and a suitcase in the middle of the living room. It wasn't long before I spotted Emily, just slightly to her left and leaning over a walker as she directed Pam where she wanted her things kept.

"Oh hey Paige. We were just starting to unpack. Mind lending me a hand?"

I shut the door gently behind me as I made my way into the living room, stopping just short of Emily. "Hey, your mom was telling me you just got home. How're you feeling?" I asked, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Tired," she laughed, and I could see the truth in her statement from the tole this whole ordeal has taken just in the way she smiles. "But good. I'm happy to be home."

"I'm glad you are too," I responded, returning a smile before I shifted my body to be more inclusive to Pam. "So what are we doing with these bags?"

"I was just telling my mom that all the clothes except the ones in that brown bag there should just be thrown in a plastic bag so I can make a run to the laundromat. The rest of the clothes can be put back in my drawers and then I have some toiletries we can just stick back in the bathroom."

"I can take care of the laundry for you. I have to go soon anyway so might as well just make one trip."

"Well I'll leave you to that then, Paige. And while you are putting those in a bag, I'll put everything else away," Pam piped in, picking up the unopened brown bag off the living room floor.

"Trash bags are in the-"

"Cabinet under the sink. I remember," I smirked, turning back to see Emily shake her head with a tired smile on her face.

"I was just checking," she replied.

I grabbed a bag out from under the sink and returned to her side. "I know. I'd like to credit myself to a fantastic memory that never forgets everything, but apparently I'm not quite that perfect."

"Paige McCullers isn't perfect? Please tell me where you heard such absurd information?"

"This crazy planet called ICU. Their people informed me I actually had forgotten a lot of things."

Emily's smile falters for a second and I immediately wished I hadn't said anything. We hadn't spoken much about what this accident had done to us, as individuals and a couple. Instead we played this little dance, tiptoeing around uncomfortable topics as if to paint as clean a picture as possible.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Forget it, Paige. Don't worry about it," Emily sighed, grasping the walker tighter as she grimaced.

I hooked my arm around Emily's, grabbing her bicep as if to steady her. "Hey, how about we sit down?"

Emily just nodded, too tired to protest, as she gave in to my assistance and let me push the walker away in order to give her space to sit down. Slowly, she lowered herself down onto the couch, propping her elbow up on the armrest as she let her face fall into her looked defeated.

"Is there anything you want to do?" I asked, trying to break the silence that was making the both of us uncomfortable. "Watch a movie, invite the girls over, maybe have some lunch?"

I really didn't want to have to share Emily just yet, but I was trying to throw out as many options as possible so she would grab onto something. But it seems it was to no avail as she only shook her head. "I kind of just want to rest, if that's okay with you?" she replied, running her fingers through her hair as she stopped leaning her head on her hand to look at me.

"Yeah, of course. I'll go get you a blanket and a pillow."

I walked to her room and took of the pillow and blanket that lay on her mattress before returning. "Here," I offered, handing Emily the pillow to slide under her head as I covered her body in the blanket.

"Can you shut the blinds?"

I nodded, going over to the window on the far wall to draw the blinds closed. As I was doing so, Pam returned from the bathroom. "Alright, you're all set, Emily. Do you need anything else before I get going?"

"No, I'm good," Emily sighed, closing her eyes as she lay back down on the pillow.

"Okay, well just call me if you need anything."

"Mmm," was all Emily groaned in response.

I stepped towards Pam as she was gathering up her things. "I was going to stick around for a little bit and get everything cleaned up in here. I'm sure her pantry and fridge need some cleaning out."

Pam nodded. "Thank you, Paige. And I'm sorry I didn't call you about the discharge right away. She's made a lot of progress but it's still a bit of a process getting around places."

I smiled. "I understand. I'm just glad she's home."

"Me too. Call me if you guys need any help."

"Of course. Take care, Pam."

"Bye, Paige."

* * *

It was 4:23. Emily's kitchen was cleared and fully restocked, both my laundry and her's were caught up, a fresh container of macaroni salad was ready to be served in the fridge, and I had run out of reasons to stay at the apartment. So I left. I wrote a letter to Emily for when she woke up and placed it on the coffee table in from to the couch she had stayed unmoving from since Pam had left several hours ago, and I walked out the door wondering when it would be that she would read it.

 _Em,_

 _I'm sorry for what my comment earlier today may have insinuated. I didn't mean for that to come out, but you know how I am when dealing with uncomfortable_  
 _topics. My harsh and twisted sense of humour seems to come out and once it's out there, I can't take it back. So I'm not going to try. But if you're awake and_  
 _feeling up for it, I really think we should talk. We've gone through a lot these past few months, Em, and it's driving me crazy not being able to speak about it._  
 _So please, when you're ready, I'd love for you to let me into your world and, if you'd like, I'll let you into mine._

 _Love you and I'm really happy you're back home,_

 _Paige._

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! I've missed you all so much, and I finally had a moment to spare so I thought I'd do a quick upload. I got finals coming up next week and then I'm finally done with the semester. Any of you in your final weeks of school? If so, good luck on exams and everything. Hope you all are well, and I can't wait to hear from you. As always, I look forward to hearing your feedback :)**


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